


The Master Bakers

by EverlivingGhosts



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Comedy, Enemies to Lovers, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Romance, snoke is mary berry, who let Hux on the bake off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: The Kylux Great British Bake Off AU that has been promised is finally here. Tantrums, betrayals and delicious pastries; this year on the Bake Off is going to prove very interesting to say the least. Fighting his way through auditions, the precise and careful Hux has absolutely no intention of losing, no way. That is until the most irritating person Hux has ever seen in his whole life stumbles into the tent and towards the oven behind him. Hux is far, far better than Kylo Ren. Isn't he?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite possibly the most absurd thing I have ever written, and I wrote it quite quickly so please forgive any mistakes or whatnot. I am endeavouring to make it shorter than what I usually write, but we shall see. Please enjoy, and find me on Kyloripped.tumblr.com <3

A multitude of bunting flapped serenely in the slight breeze as the door of the tent opened, admitting the very first of the eager faces that filed though in an excited tumble, hardly believing their luck. They inhaled as one the ever so soft whiff of bread already hanging over the rows of worktops that they all knew so well, and had yet never actually seen in real life up until now. Drinking it all in, Hux walked his own reverent path down the benches, and to him it smelt of more than just simple baking; to him, it already had the whiff of victory. He was here. He had made it.

As they waited for the cameramen to get into place, the contestants mingled in easy groups, leaning on the counters in an almost-casual way, yet ruining the effect just slightly by staring around at the colourful ovens and artfully gathered ingredients with undisguised awe. Examining an oven so that he had an excuse not to engage in conversation with the other undoubtedly unmemorable contestants, Hux half-listened to the buzz of conversation around him, catching snatches of phrases and happy laughter. He was content to be alone, able to calculate the nuances of the other contestants by himself.

Members of the production team flapped around like worried hens, counting the contestants, frowning as they kept coming up one short even as the clock ticked on. Hux could distinctly hear one lady muttering, "Where is he, where _is_ he?" As she counted only eleven contestants. Hux couldn't hide his smirk; clearly, someone had chickened out. All the more victory for him, then.

Warily, ignoring the increasingly frantic cameramen and production team, Hux eyed the other contestants. On the row next to him was a kindly looking man, dark skinned and chatting eagerly to the dashing looking one who couldn't stop flashing a winning smile at him. These two were clearly the cloyingly cute eye candy for this series, of that he was quite certain. Hux had no doubt as to his place on this particular series- he was obviously the talent. Quiet, calculating, efficient- he planned to be the person that the viewers regretted underestimating at the beginning, and who would soon be wowed by his swift ascension through the ranks.

The other contestants certainly seemed too nice by half, as he had expected, and with a sly glance Hux could tell that he could use this to his advantage; he absolutely intended to play them all. He leaned against the worktop, watching a small, determined looking girl with three buns in her hair help another tie her apron, both of them laughing with the pure joy of just being here in the tent. He felt glad when he realised that he was the tallest in the room.

And then, with an unceremonious crash that made them all jump, the tent door flew open. A dark shape, hair falling messily on the long face, stepped through the door, the breeze rustling a few loose napkins on the counter behind Hux. A ridiculously large hand brushed a few wayward strands of dark hair away, revealing an impressive nose and full lips as plump as the strawberries sat merrily in the bowl behind Hux. The dark eyes scanned the other contestants.

"Sorry." He said, in a low voice, not sounding contrite in the least, "Biked it here and took the wrong turning." He wriggled a helmet lodged firmly in his other hand as if this adequately excused his lateness. Hux stared openly at him with the distinct impression that he remembered him from _somewhere_ , and the newcomer’s gaze locked right onto him, appraising him similarly. Staring at his even taller frame, the poor buttons straining on his shirt and his fucking _motorcycle helmet_ , Hux had to concede that he might have accidentally stumbled across a very dangerous sort of eye candy. The man smiled at him, and it was both shrewd and sharp. 

"Hi." He said, eyes widening in sudden recognition, “I remember you from the try outs. Does your face still go red when you bake for longer than twenty minutes?" 

And, he was a dickhead. Remembering him well from the audition, Hux drew himself up to his rather impressive height, refusing to be cowed by this irritating, bullish fridge of a man.

"No." He said, crisply, "You aren't by any chance the particular specimen who had a tantrum because my test soufflé was better? Kylie or something, was it?"

That wiped the smile off his face. He opened his mouth to retaliate, looking furious at the unwelcome reminder, but luckily a frantic member of the production team wielding a clipboard like a shield and with a somewhat frenzied expression stepped in front of Ren.

“Kylo Ren?” He asked, sounding like he was trying hard not to get hysterical. When Ren nodded, stony-faced, the man continued, “I’m Thanisson, the, uh, production manager for today. We need to get you in quickly for make-up and a little run through of a couple of things you might have missed.”

Thick eyebrow quirked, Ren stared down at the smaller man, and contempt was written on every sharp plane of his face. Even so, he nodded again.

“Right.” He said, sounding bored. He side-eyed Hux, “See you later. Unless you accidentally break a nail or your shirt gets creased and they have to carve you a new one, of course." 

“ _Fuck you_.” Hux muttered, too quiet for the camera crew to hear, but loud enough for the passing figure of Ren. Unfortunately, he only got a shit-eating grin in response. When Ren had stomped away in his stupid, thick boots, the rest of the contestants seemed to let out a collective breath.

“Wow.” Said the cute one that Hux was fairly certain was called Finn, “He was…interesting.”

“Mmm.” Poe replied, a slight frown between his eyes, “That’s definitely one word for it.”

 

***

 

This competition, Hux realised, beating eggs with a determined frenzy, might be slightly more difficult than he had originally anticipated.

Oh, of his own abilities he had absolutely no doubt. In their very first task, his strawberry drizzle cake had been proclaimed as "technically perfect" by the more formidable judge, Snoke. It had been quite something, that aged, intense face hovering right in front of him, wrinkled in thought as he chewed on a piece of cake. When he delivered this praise, straight-faced and yet sincere, the other judge, the tiny Maz, elbowed him out of the way, snorting. When she tasted it and told him it was delicious, he couldn't help but feel a certain smugness that he had vowed not so show to the cameras, lest it disadvantage him. Even so, he couldn't help but smirk at Ren who was watching from the row behind him.

His joy, however, was to be short lived. When Ren delivered his cake, it was with a certain self-deprecating quirk to his lips, miles away from his previous prickliness. Hux frowned at him as he shrugged innocently at his drizzle cake, which was far more slapdash than Hux's.

"Guess I got a little overwhelmed by everything." He explained, almost charmingly, gesturing at the plate.

Hux’s eyes narrowed; he was also playing a role, this one. When Snoke and Maz criticised him a little for his cake’s appearance, an emotion passed quickly over his eyes, but was soon quashed as the judges took a bite and lowered their spoons slowly.

"That was..." Snoke paused, and then stared at him with his cold eyes, "Extremely delicious." 

Ren's smile grew ever wider at this rare praise. Maz nodded in fervent agreement.

"Yes, yes!" She agreed, "Just like my mother used to make. Is it a home recipe?"

"Oh, yes." Ren said, sounding pleased, "With my own interpretation- I like to mix things up. Experiment a bit, look at both sides, you know?"

"Yes." Snoke said, mildly, looking at Ren in a new light. "We like a bit of experimentation in this competition. Precision isn't everything."

Feeling that this might possibly be directed at himself, Hux was glad to see that the cameras were focused on Ren. It allowed him to scowl privately to his own cake. Well, fuck them. He would be the last one laughing when Ren "experimented" too much and poisoned them all.

He would show them. When he came first in the technical bake, ignoring the fact that the girl with three buns, Rey, miraculously came a very close second and Ren third, Hux tried to pretend to look surprised. It was hard though; he'd been very lucky with the task. It was a recipe he had recognised instantly, having made Jaffa Cakes two years ago just to prove to one of his idiotic work colleagues that he could, and making them again had almost been simple.

In the third task, his showstopper challenge, he felt a strange, serene calmness. One of the hosts, See-Threepio, seemed to find his composure a little peculiar.

"Quite confident, Hux?" He asked, watching as Hux measured sugar with a practiced ease, with the measured steps of a dancer.

"Certainly." Hux replied, eyes never leaving the scales, " _Should_ I be scared?"

The host looked a little frightened at the question; Hux realised that he had delivered it somewhat colder than he had intended. 

"N-no, of course not!" He gave a nervous titter, and was thankfully saved by the other host, Artoo, who tugged at his sleeve to go to a friendlier contestant. Teeth gritted as he felt the camera sweep over him, Hux tried to block the rest of the tent out, knowing that he currently stood a large chance of coming across as unpleasant.

As he baked, however, the rest of the known world fell away. Dicing butter, timing sauces, it was all science to Hux, such lovely order and logic just screaming for him to work out. One could depend on baking. It was a fickle business, yes, but no more than people were. He was lost to the world, tasting his mixture, twisting the knobs on the oven as he searched for the right temperature. He was only broken out of his reverie by a slight cough behind him that persisted until he straightened up.

With a frown, he twisted around quickly. Ren, leaning with his elbows on the worktop behind him, looked embarrassed.

"Hey, Hux." He said, as if severely regretting that he was talking at all. "You, uh, don't happen to have any vanilla pods, do you?"

There was a silence between them as Hux pondered his words, wondering at what game Ren was playing.

"Maybe." He said, evasively. "Why?"

Ren balked at his tone.

"Look," He said, sounding irritable, "I was obviously stupid and forgot to bring any. I really, _really_ need one, seriously, if I don’t I might be in trouble. Come on, are you completely soulless?" 

Hux considered the question for precisely one second.

"Yes." He said, curtly, and turned back to his mixing bowl. There was an angry groan behind him. It appeared that Ren had sunk dramatically onto the work surface.  

" _Oh_." He groaned, "Don't make me beg on television. You're horribly cruel."

"Oh, dear me," Hux muttered, completely devoid of sympathy, "Did someone come unprepared? This _is_ a competition, you oaf."

Muttering darkly, he just about heard Ren grumble, “…How the _fuck_ did you get on this show, you’re as family friendly as salmonella…” But he was interrupted by the somewhat untimely arrival of the camera crew, who had perhaps sensed some delicious drama at this side of the tent. Spotting them, Ren straightened up, trying to look a bit more chipper.

“Hi.” He said, falsely bright. Hurrying up with his shuffling steps, See-Threepio asked, “Is everything quite alright, Ren? You look horribly distressed a second ago.”

“Oh.” Ren said, with a sly glance at Hux, “I’m okay. Hux was just telling me to fu-“

“No, I wasn’t,” Hux cut in, hurriedly. He knew what was going on here; if he allowed Ren to manipulate the camera, he would come across badly. And if he came across badly, the production team would hardly want him to stay in the competition. Fuming inwardly, he reached into a box on his worktop.

“Were you asking to steal, oh dear me,” He gave a _very_ false laugh, “I mean, _borrow_ my ingredients, Ren?”

Staring at his smiling face in alarm, Ren took the proffered vanilla pods, their hands brushing each other in very brief contact. _His hands are very warm_ , Hux noted with some satisfaction _, not at all good for baking pastry._

“Thanks.” Ren said, still looking a little alarmed, “ I owe you.”

What a delicious fact that was. Hux nodded at him and, clearly disappointed at the lack of drama on these two rows, the camera crew moved towards the large and enticing figure of Phasma, stabbing bits of chocolate with a large knife with a lot of gusto.

When See-Threepio announced that there were only ten minutes left, Hux felt extremely pleased with his bake. His salted caramel mirror glaze cake had set nicely, and he was decorating it with some spun sugar, making sure that the temperature of his boiling pan was just right. He felt pleased as he stood by his cake, having finished in good time, watching the other bakers stumble around in a panic. Behind him, he could see that Ren’s worktop was a complete mess of dirty dishes, abandoned packets of chocolate and spilled sugar. He was almost finished, but it was a close thing, and Hux watched him flap about with no end of amusement.

When the judges slithered into the tent, the panicked chatter dissipated as quickly as the smoke from a few unfortunate bakers. They all peered at each other as the judges delivered their verdicts, and it was a mixed bag of reviews. The small figure of Mitaka was almost reduced to tears when told his glaze hadn’t set properly, but Hux knew he would be fine; he didn’t do too badly on the first task. He tried to keep a mental tally of the successes and failures of his fellow contestants, to make certain that he would be victorious.

When the judges moved to his worktop, they could not hide the fact that they were impressed. 

“Wow.” Said Maz, eyeing his shining glaze, “That looks very professional, Hux. Very precise.”

“Indeed.” Agreed Snoke, cutting a neat slice and inspecting inside the cake, “You certainly have a talent, Hux.”

“I do try.” He said, feeling pleased. He had to be star baker. There was no question about it- he had done extremely well in all three tasks, as he had intended.

When they moved on to Ren, however, they unfortunately looked quite impressed with his cake as well. In Hux’s opinion, it was a little garish- light and dark chocolate crisscrossed each other in an intricate pattern, but he personally thought it was a bit much. The judges seemed to approve, though, and when they ate it they complimented his flavours, especially the apparent subtle tone of vanilla. Ren’s eyes flicked to Hux then, but Hux tried hard to remain impassive. Inwardly, he was cursing Ren with the worst words he knew. _Freeloader_ , he thought, a little nastily.

When they finally moved on to the judging section, the room held their collective breath as the Star Baker was announced.

“Well.” See-Threepio said, looking amused, “It’s been a fantastic start, my goodness! I am extremely happy to announce that this week, our Star Baker is, well, Ren and Hux! Both of you; it was too tight to pick just one!”

Properly annoyed that his victory had to be shared, Hux tried to look as pleased as Ren, but he was boiling inside. He also tried very hard to look upset as Bala-Tik was kicked off, but it was quite difficult due to the fact that he truly did not care. When that torture had finally finished, the participants began to disperse, chatting eagerly about how much fun they had had and commiserating with the morose looking Bala-Tik. Hux stood by his worktop, trying to work out why he felt so angry.

“Uh.” A voice said behind him, “Congratulations, I guess.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me.” Hux snapped, twisting around to see the tall figure Ren, clutching his bike helmet, “A shared victory is _not_ a victory. Shove your congratulations up your arse.”

Ren snorted at him, “Right, whatever, princess.” He shook his head as Hux flared up, "You know, as much as I would like to be intimidated by you and your horrifyingly boring baking," Ren said, zipping up his leather jacket, "It's _extremely_ difficult when you have chocolate on your nose."

When Hux just blinked at him in confusion, Ren tapped his own formidable nose, just on the left, "Right here. It's a good look for you, actually, much cuter than what you were originally going for. Cocky asshole, was it? Very family friendly."

And that was the moment, staring furiously after the dark hair flapping away into the distance, that Hux decided that he would beat Kylo Ren by any means necessary.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to all of the lovely people on the first chapter of this! It is such an absurd AU, but one I have been thinking about for a while and love dearly. Please enjoy, and find me @ kyloripped.tumblr.com :)

It was deep into the third week of the competition when they were all finally treated to a full-blown Kylo Ren tantrum. At first, it was almost insidious how it happened; a certain tightness to the way that Ren held himself, the crinkle of abused paper as Ren grasped the recipe they were all given hard, desperately searching the unhelpful words of the technical challenge. And then, a crash that drew every eye in the tent- a bowl smashed deliberately on the work surface once and then again intersected with a few choice swear words, the dark, almost blood red sauce oozing over the broken shards as the remains clattered to the floor.

When Ren made no move to clear it up, only staring down at the dripping, shattered mess with a certain vindictive pleasure was it obvious that this had been no accident. Hux eyed him warily; it was clear that Ren had been struggling with this task, a tricky German recipe called Dampfnudel that he himself was only half-certain that he had right. Usually, he would have been tempted to throw some snide comment over his shoulder, but there was something so absolutely unfunny about the way Ren gripped the worktop as if wondering what he should smash next that Hux held his tongue.

And then, inevitably, their hosts materialised out of nowhere, perhaps attracted by the drama filled siren call of the smashed bowl. There was something almost tender about the way See-Threepio stared at Ren, however, which Hux found a little odd. He wondered, not for the first time, if the hosts and the judges were somehow biased towards Ren. He couldn’t for the life of him work out why.

The tall, skinny beanpole of a host skidded to a stop then, as frantic as ever.

“Are you alright, Ren?” He asked, anxiously, staring at the sauce that was now dripping so fluently down the turquoise wood of the cupboard door and to the floor. Ren licked his lip, knowing that the cameras had probably been focusing on him for a while.

“I…” He paused, “Had an accident.” He lied, voice tight.

See-Threepio looked from the remains of the bowl to his big, sauce covered hands, knowing like the rest of them that the sound of the bowl being hit against the work surface twice indicated the exact opposite. However, he seemed to quite wisely decide that this probably wasn’t worth questioning.

“Well,” He said, trying to make his voice bright, “Accidents do happen, I’m afraid! Have you hurt your hand at all?”

“No.” Said Ren shortly, not even bothering to try his charming persona this time.

Next to his tall partner, Artoo stared up at him, ludicrously small next to his bulk, and there was something searching in his eyes. He whispered something to See-Threepio then, who bent down to receive the small, high-pitched words as the small hand rested on his arm for attention. The cameramen tried to look contrite, as if interrupting something they had no business to be filming, and shifted the lens towards a busily stirring Poe Dameron instead. See-Threepio straightened up.

“Care for some fresh air, Ren?” He asked, as if this was the most natural thing in the world to offer a contestant in the middle of a task. A muscle worked in Ren’s jaw but, absurdly, he gave a brisk nod. There was a collective release of breath as that volatile presence stepped into the verdant, blooming garden of the country house in which their tent resided, a sense of relief almost as palpable as the aroma of steamed buns hanging around the air.

Hux was the only one who remained staring at the door, seeing two distant shapes talking next to the lichen-spattered stone steps and wondering at what that odd pairing could possibly be talking about. After a few moments, he realised that he had been neglecting his own sauce and just about managed to stop it burning, his own face reddening as he remembered that he didn’t care about Kylo Ren one tiny bit. He stirred the sauce vigorously, determined that his back would face the door and thus avoid any distractions outside of it.

The sweet smell of cooking plums filled the air; rich for some, verging on acrid for some unfortunate others. The comforting space of the tent was filled with these various aromas, and a dark shape re-entered the doorway, moving through the steam and the busy bodies like a silent, determined ghost. Ren moved back to his cooking station, face impassive, and began baking his dish as if nothing had gone amiss. Hux might have been tempted to feel impressed by this composure, but there was just something slightly unsettling about how calm he looked as he stepped around the sauce on the floor and picked up a fresh bowl.

Despite this distraction, Hux had work to do. He continued with the tricky recipe, gritting his teeth in annoyance when he realised that the bake lacked his usual neatness. He was quite caught by surprise when the judges proclaimed his bake to be the best of the, admittedly bad, bunch. On the end of the row, Ren folded his arms in an almost petulant way, slouching on his chair. He had come second to last on that challenge, and the sweetness of this realisation buoyed up Hux so much, it was difficult not to flash him a smug smile. He got a scowl in return, which just bolstered his mood.

They had a brief break, milling about the vast garden in sporadic groups, getting a well-deserved breather before filming the last task of the third week. Today, Hux had chosen to tag along with the impressively tall Phasma, mostly because she had promised not to tell anyone that she had opened a tricky jar for him in the previous task, and he had a healthy respect for someone who could thwack dough onto the work surface as vigorously as she could.

Their talk was pleasant enough, although Hux couldn’t help but look over her impressive shoulder at the tall figure of Ren, wandering the flowerbeds alone. He looked to be working off some steam, pacing the neatly cut grass to and fro, and he was given a wide berth by the other contestants. For the first and perhaps only time, Hux began to feel a little sorry for him.

When it was time to go back into the tent to film the final task of the day, Hux was confident that he was once again on the rising path to Star Baker. He had lost out to the small but surprisingly skilled Rey last week, and it irked him to no end. He already knew that he was technically the best baker in the tent. It was so painfully obvious, he wondered if the judges were deliberately snubbing him so that they did not have to acknowledge this fact. He was almost certain that Snoke had a soft spot for Ren; at each bake the old judge seemed to give him a quiet, whispered compliment and Ren almost preened at the attention. It was a little creepy, if Hux was quite honest. 

Still, he had work to do. The task started, he went about making the dough for a tricky bread basket, relishing at the thought of looping the separate strands of dough together, knowing that this logical and tricky work was something that he excelled in. When he leaned on his work surface to reach for some flour, he heard a disparaging sort of snort. When he looked up for the source, he saw Ren watching him, arms folded.

“Do you _always_ have to look so fucking smug?” He asked, his impressive eyebrows knotted together, “Is that, like, your natural expression?”

Hux refused to rise to this nonsense. He picked up his flour, deliberately making Ren wait for an answer. It was rather fun to watch him get more frustrated the longer he paused, and despite enjoying his torment enormously, soon he said, “Yes. I’m surprised you know what a natural expression is, Ren, considering that yours changes depending on whose arse you’re trying to kiss.” And when Ren fumed, wordless, Hux turned his back on him and tutted, “Dear, dear- did I touch a nerve?”

Instead of an answer, all Hux heard was the loud _clack clack_ of thick boots on the floor. Spinning around, concerned at this ominous sound, he found himself staring right up into the thunderous expression of Ren, barging unceremoniously into his own territory. He seemed even more muscled and menacing up close, and Hux could see his apron straining on his massive chest. Refusing to be intimidated, he met those dark, tumultuous eyes as coolly as he could manage. 

“Get out of my station.” He said, perhaps a shade too loudly. Multiple heads turned, but Hux didn’t even care if all of the cameras were pointed at them right now. The only thing that existed for him was Ren’s eyes, and his enormous fists curling by his sides.

"I'll do what I want." Ren hissed, more than a little petulantly, "You can't stop me. You uptight, selfish-"

"Oh," Hux gave an exasperated sigh, finding him much more pathetic than frightening, "You are _such_ a child. Going to 'accidentally' break something else and run crying to the hosts again?"

That was a low blow, and he knew it. There was a harsh intake of breath from the rest of the bakers when Ren gave a growl, an actual _growl_ , and darted forwards. Hux took a hasty step backwards from this frankly alarming sight, and his movement jolted a metal spoon on the side, and sent it clattering to the floor. He accidentally slipped on it, which was quite lucky because at the same moment, Ren made a grab for him. He missed somewhat woefully, and ended up whacking his leg on the wooden cupboard. Swearing under his breath, they both almost missed the sound of the frantic footsteps beating towards them.

Breathless, Thanisson skidded to a stop, looking very sorry that he had to be there at all. The camera crew were very hasty in their attempts to move the cameras away from him, and the rest of the bakers tried very hard to pretend to carry on with their recipes, but the odd pair of eyes would now and then dart to that troublesome corner. When he caught his breath, Thanisson cringed. 

“Um, Ren and Hux?” He said, sounding a little wary, “Could I just speak to you guys for a moment? Uh, outside?” 

Despite their argument, Hux and Ren exchanged a mutually confused glance. They had never, ever heard of two contestants being called away in the middle of a task. Thanisson seemed to sense their disbelief.

“We won’t be long.” He said, quickly, “The Producer for today just wants a quick chat.” And when he saw that this did nothing to assuage their fears, “If you feel really behind when we get back you can have extra minutes to complete your bake after everyone else has finished?” He added, looking desperate. Satisfied, they both moved forward to follow him, and he looked endlessly relieved. 

There was a little side office attached to the tent, for the production team to watch footage and hold meetings to do with running the show. They were both quite surprised and then a little mollified to see the old, leathery producer Gial Ackbar sat there, a legend to those who knew anything about the BBC. One of the main show runners, it was certainly a shock to see him slumming it on one of the slower competition weeks. He looked tired as he surveyed the newcomers with his baggy, bulging eyes.

“Ah.” He nodded at Thanisson, “Thank you for bringing them. We won’t be long, won’t be long at all.”

It was a clear dismissal, but Thanisson still looked anxious to leave the producer with the two tallest, most troublesome contestants. Even so, he pattered out of the room, and when he was gone Ackbar was left to gaze up at the two aproned contestants in front of him.

“I think we should cut to the chase, shouldn’t we?” Ackbar asked, and when they nodded, he said, “I’m Gial Ackbar, the Producer of the Bake Off. You two are Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren, correct?”

Cringing somewhat at the use of his first name, Hux said, “Yes, sir.”

“Correct.” Ren said, casting an amused side-glance at Hux. Ackbar nodded.

“Good, good. Now, do you two know why you’re here in my office?”

Feeling the tension increase just a little, Hux bit his lip. He thought he might have an inkling, but his gut feeling told him to play it dumb, “I’m not entirely certain, I’ll admit.”

“Me neither?” Ren said, seeming glad that Hux had spoken first. Ackbar gave a sigh, perhaps sensing their wariness to answer him directly.

"Look, boys," Ackbar said, rubbing his smooth temples. Hux bristled at being referred to by this derogatory name, but the older man seemed to be doing his best to ignore him, "This is a family show. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

For a second, Hux and Ren eyed each other again. There was a pause. 

"Uh." Said Ren, confusion plain in his voice. Ackbar sighed again.

"The Bake Off is a family show. A _nice_ show." He gestured around to the surplus bunting that had been stuck up to inject a bit of cheer to the otherwise boring office, "We like a bit of competition, a little drama certainly, but not nastiness. And you two..." He paused tactfully. “I’ve heard a few reports about some, ah, _tension_ in the tent between you two." 

And then, Hux felt hot all over. He had the distinct feeling that he was being told off, like a child at a primary school who had stolen some sweets and was bowing his head in front of the headmaster. Ren spoke first, looking similarly contrite.

"So, what you're saying is...you want us be nicer to each other." He sounded as if he thought this was most probably impossible, and for once Hux was inclined to agree with him. Despite this feeling passing between them, Ackbar looked pleased that he had caught on so quickly.

"Yes, yes!" He said, "Banter is fine, but no nastiness, OK?" Hux lips pursed at the word ‘banter’, but he nodded.

"I'll try and be...nicer." Hux said, the last word coming out a little twisted, as if it was a foreign concept to him. In a way, it was; Hux wasn't entirely sure if he knew _how_ to be nice. Ren seemed to be facing the same doubts, staring down at Hux with his own annoying amusement. Ackbar, however, seemed content.

“You’re both marvellous bakers.” He told them, and they blinked at him in surprise, “The production team has shown me some test footage, and they sometimes bring in the bakes when you’re all done. It would be a shame to lose you both for something as silly as this.”

“Indeed.” Hux said, not entirely sure if this was a threat or not. _Play nice, or we’ll boot you off._ Another layer had been added to the game, it seemed. Next to him, Ren seemed to have slipped back into his annoying, charming persona.

“We’ll do our best, sir.” He gave a little self-deprecating grin, which Ackbar nodded at approvingly.

"Say," Said the weathered producer, as if a new thought had just occurred to him, "You could even try and smile a bit too, Hux. Get the audience to see a different side of you, you know?"

Trying to ignore the insinuation that he was a cold, unlikeable robot, Hux smiled at him. Utilising all of his previous discoveries of this mysterious emotion people called "niceness", he smiled down at Ackbar, Ren in the corner of his eye watching him. There was a pause.

"Sweet Jesus." Ren breathed, "Don't do that. Never, _ever_ do that."

 

*** 

 

Deep into the third task, both the camera crew and other contestants seemed to be a little bewildered by the sudden jollity in the two rows occupied by Hux and Ren. For the first time in perhaps the whole competition, the two had been perfectly civil to each other and, privately, some wondered if this was indeed less frightening than the arguing had been.

"Oh, Hux?” Ren called, leaning slightly over his work surface, “You wouldn't mind passing me that spatula, would you?" Ren asked, in a falsely sweet voice. Knowing that he was being teased, Hux flashed him one of his particularly frightening smiles in retaliation.

"Oh, it does seem so _terribly_ far away from you, doesn't it?" Hux smiled, knowing as they both did that Ren could probably just reach over with his stupidly long arms and grab the damn thing. Even so, he reached over and slapped it into Ren's open palm. "There you go." He said, as Ren held in a wince, "Good luck in your bake!" He said, hamming it up, whilst simultaneously thinking _you're going to need it_. Ren seemed to hear the insinuation in his voice, but it only served to egg him on.

"Oh, that's _so_ kind of you." He said, his smile very sharp. "If only I had some of your boring, I mean," He gave a very false laugh, tossing his dark, shining mane of hair so it caught the light dramatically, " _Precise_ baking skills." 

Feeling himself almost boil over with anger, Hux just managed to keep it in.

"Oh." He said, lightly, "I would hate for you to have to deal with something you couldn't handle. Your own skills are quite.... unique. I would, ah, hate to ruin them with my precision."

Ren seemed to be holding in his own anger.

"True, true," He said, and muttered quietly so the cameras couldn't pick it up, "You pretentious dickhead."

"You shouldn't mutter, Ren." Hux said, brightly, sprinkling some flour on his work surface, "People might think you were saying something uncharacteristically unpleasant," He also lowered his voice as he passed the section intersecting he and Ren, "You utter moron." 

For both of their sanity, they avoided each other for the rest of the task. When it was time to present their respective breads, Hux was very pleased when his was proclaimed as ‘excellent as usual’. Maz actually shook his hand, her tiny one very warm in his surprised palm. Ren had made a strange sort of woven lump which was apparently shaped like a sword which was admittedly impressive, though a little perplexing. They seemed to enjoy it, though, and Ren looked pleased enough with the judges’ feedback.

When it got to the final judging of the day, to absolutely no one’s surprise, Hux was proclaimed as Star Baker. This time, he was unable to hide his smugness at finally being awarded his proper title, feeling Ren sighing next to him. When it was over and Phasma clapped him hard on the back of the shoulder, Hux returned to his worktop feeling that this competition might be in the bag after all.

He began clearing his workspace, and the more he cleared, the more he swore he could hear a strange, annoying grunt from behind him. Ren seemed to be clattering about his space with little grace, looking quite annoyed. It was after the fourth or fifth grunt that Hux finally lost his patience. 

"Could you _please_ stop grunting like a caveman that's just discovered how to use oven gloves?" He snapped at Ren, wiping some flour off the marble, "It's really quite infuriating." 

The dark eyes glowered at him from the table behind. In a few steps, Ren was over on Hux’s side, looking angry still.

“I don’t get how you always win them over!” Ren complained, and before Hux could stop him, he reached over to grab a large chunk of Hux’s bread that had broken off. Scowling, he put it to his lips and chewed, “I mean, it’s not as if-“ And then, he stopped talking, his eyes widened.

Feeling wary, Hux crossed his arms, prepared for Ren’s criticisms. He could take it. He waited for Ren to pass his judgement, but he seemed struck temporarily dumb, staring down at him with his mouth full of bread. Hux gave a pointed cough.

“It’s quite unpleasant to eat with your mouth open, you know.” He said, carefully. With a gulp, Ren finished the bread and continued to stare at him, as if seeing him in a completely new light. It was like being x-rayed by a very dark, intense beam of light. Hux felt uncomfortable, and then another emotion that he couldn’t quite place. “Was it that awful?” He heard himself say before he could stop.

“I’ve travelled around the world.” Ren said, completely out of the blue, “I’ve lived in so many different places since I was a kid and tried so much food wherever I went. Pastries, pies, bread, all sorts. And that bread,” He gave a pause, sounding confused, “Is fucking _good_. How did you do it?” He finished, eagerly, and Hux stared openly at him. 

It was not often that he was complimented on his baking. Hux had always found that the higher one aimed, the further there was to fall. An amateur baker making a more complicated dish that people found surprisingly delicious- they were proclaimed excellent and well admired. A skilled baker who made something of their usual high standard, and one suddenly found a flaw in every bite. But Ren was looking so genuinely interested, leaning with his elbows on the worktop with an eager expression, that Hux felt his guard come crashing down.

“Well.” He began, tentatively at first, “It’s mostly about timing, and sourcing the fresh ingredients.”

“Uh huh.” Ren said, drinking in his words. Bolstered by this, Hux found himself leaning back on the worktop, and talking to Ren, _Ren_ of all people, about his baking process. And Ren was a good audience. He leaned there, rapt at every new piece of information, only interrupting to ask a question about some little method Hux had learnt. It felt surprisingly good to be able to talk to someone about it, and he didn’t stop for a good while.

While he was talking, Hux noticed for the first time that Ren had his sleeves rolled to the elbows, and his muscled forearms were covered in flour that he had not had a chance to wipe off. He thought for a moment about how strong Ren must be, to have smashed that bowl so easily, and yet how delicate those hands could be when they really wanted. When this train of thought began leading down some extremely dangerous territory, Hux had to snap himself out of it.

“You aren’t asking me this just to copy my technique, are you?” He asked, only half joking. Ren looked genuinely thoughtful at his suggestion.

“Nah.” He said eventually, “I wouldn’t be able to do it the same as you no matter how hard I tried, and there’s no point trying to copy you on here now they know your style. I just like learning new techniques and mixing them, is all. Keeps it all fresh, don’t you think?”

“Mmm.” Said Hux, although he wasn’t sure that he did.

When he learned a new technique, he tried to copy it by the book and perfect it as much as possible. Ren’s method of free styling was as alien to him as following the half-provided recipes in the technical challenge. He liked to know what he was working with, to know how exactly he could become the best. The last few technical challenges felt like flukes that might rapidly go downhill if he did not watch what he was doing. When he saw that Ren was still staring at him, he said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh,” Said Ren, as if he hadn’t realised that he was doing it, “I really thought that the judges had been exaggerating your skills, you know, for the camera. I didn’t think you could really be _that_ good. ”

_That good._ Hux found that he had to look away then, lest Ren’s words make him do something as traitorously embarrassing as blush or, even worse, thank him. When this meant that he was surveying the rest of the tent instead of Ren, he realised with a jolt that the bright, jolly space was very empty. 

It seemed that, whilst they had been talking, the rest of the contestants and camera crew had leaked out, tired by the long day with its two difficult challenges. He had barely noticed the tent getting quieter, and it was almost amusing how no one had thought to interrupt them. Ren seemed to come to this observation much the same time that Hux did, and actually looked a little abashed. 

“Oh.” He said, with an embarrassed laugh, “Looks like we scared everyone off.”

“Perhaps we weren’t quite nice enough?” Hux suggested. This drew an actual grin out of Ren, and from its sheer goofiness Hux suspected that this was quite possibly the first genuine grin he had done in the whole competition.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Ren smiled, “I’m beginning to think that you’re really quite soft, underneath all of that.”

There was a pause as Hux stared at him incredulously.

“Soft?” He asked, a little shrilly, “Somehow, I _don’t_ think so. And underneath all of what, may I ask?”

But Ren was already walking away, shaking his head in amusement as he swiped another tantalising piece of bread from Hux’s plate.

“Ren?” Hux called at his broad back, annoyed at being ignored. Throwing his apron onto a hook, Ren turned just before leaving the door, bread clasped in one mighty paw.

“You get all red when someone compliments you.” He said, bringing the bread towards his mouth for another bite, “It’s hard to maintain that asshole-ish image when you have little pink cheeks, you know. Just like the chocolate- it’s pretty cute, Hux.”

And he left through the door, leaving Hux to wonder if he wanted to follow him, shout after him, or throw the rest of his bread at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also @ people who might potentially be reading my other fic: Sorry, I will update that one, this one is just so easy to write in my precious little spare time. If anyone has any questions on the mechanics of the Bake Off to understand this better, please just shoot me a question. And also, I forgot to mention that this fic is sort of based loosely on this current series, but a bit re-jiggled (I might pinch some PARTICULAR events from other series' too!) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, enjoy reading and find me at kyloripped.tumblr.com!

It was the fifth week of the competition, and Ren was pounding on the side of the reinforced office adjoining the tent, not caring one jot who heard him.

"Hux!" He shouted, ignoring a member of the production team that skidded past, looking alarmed, "Hux it was an accident, I swear it! Hux!"

When he stopped pounding for a moment there was a voice, cold and clear behind the door.

"Don't talk to me." Hux said, his pure venom travelling through wood and air and into Ren’s thick skull, "Don’t look at me. Don't even _breathe_ in my direction."

"H-u-x." Ren whined, but he stopped pounding. He slid down the door, his back hitting the wood. "It was an honest accident." He said, knowing it sounded weak even to his own ears. He heard a strangled sort of laugh, but then Hux went straight back to ignoring him.

There had been an...incident. That's what Ren was determined to call it- a pure accident that could have happened to anybody. It had been a swelteringly hot day in the tent, not at all aided by the bakers huffing and puffing beside their even hotter ovens, adding to the general malaise of sweat and stress. Quite unfairly, they all thought, they had been set the fiddly task of making a Baked Alaska, nigh on impossible in that heat.

And, somehow, Ren tried hard to shift the blame to someone else, it appeared that in the general confusion and hubbub of the kitchen, Hux’s Baked Alaska had been taken out of the freezer for a short while. However, those precious few moments in the heat had their toll on the dessert, and the entire tent turned around when they heard a perfectly calm, measured, "What the actual fuck."

In a normal situation, one might have been able to laugh it off, but in this situation it was akin to high treason. The camera crew seemed to be struggling to decide whether to focus the camera towards or away from Hux, so frightening was his cold, calm fury.

His furious eyes darted from the melting blob that has only just recently been an intricate creation, burning into each contestant like a finely tuned laser.

"This is sabotage." He said, quietly at first, but they all heard it, "Who is trying to sabotage me?" He said, his voice gaining in volume at every word.

"Oh, shit," One of the camera operators, Unamo, whispered to someone beside her, "Get Leech. We need some back up, he looks ready to murder someone."

The bakers all took a collective step backwards as Hux menaced towards them, wielding a spatula in one hand the way one might wield a large sword.

"Well?" Hux demanded, "Who was it? Or do I have to play nice and ask oh so _politely_?"

The remaining bakers looked at each other. Ren was the only one who stayed completely still, staring out at the freezer in mild horror. It had been such a whirlwind of a task, and he _had_ been at the freezer recently, but it couldn't have been him, it couldn't-

"Was it you?" Hux directed this at Finn, who looked frightened at his building wrath but stood his ground nonetheless.

"Nope." He said, bravely. "I wasn't the last person at the freezer." But he stopped speaking, not wanting to be the one to unveil the unfortunate culprit. Sadly, Hux picked up on this fumble like a hound sniffing for rabbits.

"So you _do_ know who was the last person there?" He shot at him. And when Finn stayed quiet, he said, "Am I _really_  going to have to ask the camera crew to show me the footage? Is that actually what's going to happen right now? Who _was it?_."

This shouting got through to Finn like nothing else had.

"R-Ren." He said, apologetically. A few people away from him, Ren gave a sharp exhale of breath.

"You fucking traitor." He hissed, but it was almost lost as Hux spun to face him. Cringing under his fury, Ren was quite powerless to do anything other than wait for Hux to shout at him. He waited, and-

Hux turned from them all, marched to his plate with the melted mess of a dessert. In the utter silence, he picked up the baked Alaska and in one swift movement dumped it into a bin, plate and all. The dessert fell to the bottom of the bin with a resounding thud, the crash of smashing crockery such a contrast to his cold, clinical movements. And, without another word or a glance backwards he marched from the tent, slamming the door behind him.

There was a stunned silence after he had left. No one had ever thrown their food away in the history of Bake Off, to their knowledge. It was unprecedented. Ren stared outwards at the door, almost choking on his feeling of guilt and shame.

"I've got to go to him." Ren blurted, and the other bakers just stared at him openly.

"It's your funeral, mate." Phasma told him, looking like she would personally rather do anything else. Ren was inclined to agree, but he had to go. He had to fix this mess. No one made a move to stop him as he skidded past the various pastel coloured work surfaces; perhaps they thought he deserved it. He thought they were probably right.

And so, here he was, back against the cheap wood that was closed so firmly against him. He could hear nothing from Hux now, and sat staring at the softly fluttering side of the tent in front of him, not really seeing it at all.

Eventually, a very sorry looking Thanisson emerged down the corridor. He gave Ren an apologetic look, as if he sympathised with being confined with an apoplectic Hux in this tiny space.

"Uh, Ren?" He said, not unkindly, “We're doing the judging soon. You've lost a bit of time on the task, I don't suppose you want to go back and...?"

There was utter silence from the other side of the door, and Ren knew that Hux was most probably listening into this conversation. He spoke loudly and clearly.

"No." He said, "No, I'll be judged with everyone else."

A brief crease of worry passed between Thanisson’s  eyebrows, but he let it be for now.

"O-kay." He said, heavily, and he took a deep breath. "Hux?" He called out, feeling like he very much deserved to be given a pay rise for doing this, "We, um, need you back in the tent, if that's alright?"

Silence.

"We can give you a little more time." Thanisson said quickly, aware of the snub, "I mean, whatever you feel is-"

Cutting through his words, the door clicked open. Hux stepped through, poised as a dancer, calm as if he had just left a business meeting. Most noticeably, he refused to look at Ren. He moved past his large body without touching him, a mean feat in the cramped corridor, and stood in front of Thanisson. He raised his eyebrow.

"I'm expected?" He said, quietly, ignoring Ren.

"Y-yes." Thanisson replied, sounding both relieved and frightened that he had left the room so readily,"We’re doing the judging so-"

"Lead the way." Hux said, somewhat drily, "I’m on absolute tenterhooks."

Knowing that it would be foolish to speak, Thanisson walked down the corridor. Ren opened his mouth, but before any sort of pathetic apology could appear Hux strode as quickly as he could after the frantic footsteps, and Ren was left quite alone. He stood, blinking, until he remembered that he of course had to be back for the judging too. With a swallow, he moved down the beige lined corridor.

The judging, as they all expected, was absolutely excruciating. The judges moved around the room innocently enough, but always avoiding Hux and Ren's consecutive tables. It was a subtle thing, but it was obvious that they were leaving the most juicy contestants until last.

When they stood in front of Ren and told him that his dessert was a little messy and unfinished but otherwise nice tasting, he felt no joy in it. It was just a terrible sort of torture to be praised for his Baked Alaska when he knew what trouble Hux was in.

Hux stood next to his empty counter, arms folded, leaning almost casually against it. Everything about him was outwardly casual except for his eyes; they were so cold, staring and lingering at anyone who dared look at him for too long. When the judges finally stopped by his table there was a very awkward silence.

"So, you threw your dessert away." Snoke said, quite mildly, although it hid a multitude of suggestions within. Maz looked saddened by this fact and its inevitable consequences, but Hux was entirely neutral. It was almost scary how calm he seemed.

"Yes." He said, quite shortly. It was dangerously close to being rude, unusual for him, and Snoke didn't look too impressed at this hint of attitude.

"So you now have nothing to present." Snoke said.

"Yes."

"And you fully understood the consequence when you threw it away?"

"Yes."

"Even though we explicitly state that one must present one’s bake at the end of a task?"

"Yes."

There was a pause as Snoke considered him, knowing full well that he was arguably one of the best bakers on the show. However, rules were still rules. He opened his mouth to condemn him and-

"I quit." Said Ren, loudly and clearly before they could say any more.

There was a collective hush at this extraordinary announcement, eyes darting to each other in utter shock. Feeling Hux’s utterly surprised gaze burning into him, Ren took a deep breath, "Don't kick him out because of that. It was my fault. I...I deserve to go."

"Ren?" Said Maz, softly.

"I didn't mean to." Ren hastened to add, "But I did, and Hux shouldn't suffer the consequences. So I quit, and he can stay."

Maz and Snoke exchanged a glance. It was loaded with bewilderment, surprise and mostly sadness. Despite his shortcomings, Ren was greatly liked in the tent. There was just something so wonderfully surreal about seeing that tall, muscled shape leaning over delicate pastries, his large hands dwarfing tiny bowls or plates as he worked hard on his creations. They would be sorry to see him go.

Snoke considered Ren carefully, his obvious favourite for this series. The tall baker was clearly horrified about what he was offering, wanting victory almost as much as Hux, but he tilted his him up in acceptance. Glancing towards the cameras, Snoke's eye was caught then by the frantic shape of Thanisson, stood just out of range of the cameras and shaking his head. He was mouthing the word, “ _No_.” And tapping his ear piece with an exaggerated tap tap. Clearly, he was being spoken to by the head producer. And, also clearly, the head producer was _not_ pleased with the current situation.

Knowing there was little time to smooth this over, Snoke said, “Let’s not get hasty, Ren. We’ll take what you have said into consideration, but Maz and I must discuss this situation by ourselves.” He let that hang for a moment, and Ren looked horrified.

“But,” He began, “But-“

“Everyone just have a breather, alright?” Maz said, kindly, directing this statement particularly towards the frozen figure of Hux, “Let’s not make rash decisions based on what might or might not have happened.”

“But it did happen-“ Ren protested.

“No rash decisions.” Maz smiled, but her eyes spoke firmly to Ren. _Shush. Let the adults sort this out._

Ren opened his mouth again, perhaps to argue more, but thankfully he seemed to realise that he would be fighting a losing battle. He leant back onto his work surface, moodily casting his eyes downwards until the judges and camera crew left, perhaps to talk to the producer about how to deal with this entirely unprecedented situation.

The rest of the bakers tactfully turned back to their workstations, and a few even left to go outside to be asked questions for the little contestant interviews that played in between each task. When there were only a few people left in the tent busily banging pots and pans and other detritus, Ren allowed himself to glance at Hux. He didn't expect the cold, green eyes to be looking at him as well. There was a pause, full to the brim with tension.

“I suppose you want me to be on my knees thanking you for your oh so noble sacrifice.” Hux quipped, voice tight. “Well, tough shit. I refuse to indulge you.”

“I don't care.” Ren replied, and it was true, “Think what you like. I meant what I said.”

“What, about it being entirely your fault?” Hux said, raising his eyebrow, “Because that's an entirely accurate observation. It _was_ your fault, and taking the hit for it is no concern of mine.”

This sheer ungratefulness irked Ren for some reason. He tried to act as calm as Hux, but it was a struggle to keep the rage from boiling to the surface as it always inevitably did.

“You know what, Hux?” He snapped, unable to keep a bite of fury out of his voice, “You're not the only person in this tent who wants to win. Yeah, I accidentally messed up your bake, but _you_ threw it away. I didn't have to throw myself to the mercy of the judges. But I did, and I'd appreciate just a _little_ bit of fucking thanks, actually, because I don't want to leave this tent today.”

A muscle worked in Hux’s jaw. He took a deep breath, allowing it to fill his chest before it came out in a soft puff. “Thank you for your noble suffering.” He said, and despite Ren’s obvious sincerity, he couldn't help it from coming out just a little patronisingly. Ren flared up again.

“Oh, fuck you.” He said, “I meant I didn't want _either_ of us to leave this tent, you absolute asshole. I don't know why I even bother.”

He began striding away from the work surface then, muttering dark curses under his breath. Hux watched him go, and it was only when Ren was halfway through the door of the tent that the strange and absurd feeling that he should run after him hit him firmly in the chest. But, Hux quashed such silliness and watched the dark hair flap into the verdant, buzzing garden, and when he turned back to his own work station he saw Phasma leaning towards him, shaking her head.

“What?” He snapped, already annoyed at her exasperated expression. She didn't seem even slightly intimidated by his anger.

“That was super smooth, Hux.” She said, leaning her head on her great arms despite the spots of flour dotted here and there on her skin.

“What on earth are you taking about?” He demanded. She just snorted at him, derisive.

“I may have misinterpreted the situation slightly,” Phasma said drily, “But I _think_ I just witnessed Ren putting his neck on the line for you even though he obviously would kill to win and he's been mooning over you for weeks now.”

“I-“ Hux was caught quite by surprise, unable to articulate himself as eloquently as he would have liked, “Mooning?” Was all that he could get out. Phasma just laughed at him, the vibrations running through the wood.

“Hux.” She said, sounding like she was drawing on some much needed patience, “Ren was good at the start of the competition. Really good, but not necessarily the best. Have you not seen how much better Ren’s gotten since he's realised that if he gets booted off he won't be able to talk to you anymore?”

Feeling his face getting very hot, Hux found that he couldn't think of any suitable retort to this extraordinary theory. There was a certain sting of truth to her words; Ren's creations had become more elaborate and television worthy the more the competition had gone on. But he had just put it down to the fact that, underneath his graceless clattering and messy delivery, Ren was actually quite skilled at his work. He couldn't find the words to articulate this to Phasma, however. Instead, he struggled to think of an argument.

“If he's so desperate to bake with me, why did say he wanted to quit?” He asked, playing his trump card. This did nothing to dissuade Phasma, however. She gave another laugh.

“You really are being deliberately dense today.” She said, amused, “He just told you how much he wanted to be in the competition, and he still sacrificed it for you. He doesn't really want to quit, you moron, he wants to make sure that _you_ don't go.”

Refusing to look at her so that he didn't have to admit that she was right, Hux folded his arms across his chest. It took him a moment to reply.

“It's rude to listen into other people's conversations, you know.” He said, a little shortly.

“To be honest, it's hard not to with you two fog-horning about.” She said, “Don’t shoot the messenger.” And she rose off of the counter, leaving Hux to digest her words.

When the bakers were arranged into their customary line on the stools, waiting for judgement, for the first time Ren was as far away from Hux as he could possibly get. This fact was not lost on the other bakers, who seemed to be working overtime to be bright and chatty to cover for their decidedly surly contestants.

When Snoke and Maz re-entered the room, all pretence at levity was lost as the two judges and the two hosts stood in front of them. The cameras whirred to follow the movements as See-Threepio stepped forwards, looking nervous.

“Bakers.” He said, inclining his head towards them, “What a day it's been! We haven't seen a day like it on the bake off, have we Artoo?”

The smaller host just shook his head, quiet and letting his expression doing the talking as always. There was a nervous laugh from one of the bakers, breaking through the awful tension. It seemed to encourage See-Threepio, somehow. “Well,” He said, quite brightly, “It falls on me to have the excellent task of announcing this week’s Star Baker…”

The contestants blinked back at him; in the whirlwind of drama, they had quite forgotten that there would be a Star Baker this week. Hux was so startled that he almost missed their host talking.

“…and this baker puts the desert in dessert, yes, you heard right- it's Rey, again!”

There was a soft “Oh.” Of surprise from Rey as Poe and Finn clasped her on the back, looking gleeful.

“Knew you could do it.” Finn said, looking genuinely pleased. Watching them, Hux secretly wished he knew how to be pleased for someone's success rather than bitter about his own failure. Before he could dwell on this, however, the excitement and joy in the room dulled as Artoo shifted meaning fully on one short leg.

“Sadly.” He said, in his sharp, high voice, “It falls on me to announce who will be leaving us this week. It really does get harder and harder every time.”

Hux made sure that he was sitting up straight; whatever their host said, he wanted to be aloof and calm until the end.

“And that's why,” Absurdly, he broke into a smile, “I’m happy to announce that this week there will be no eliminations. It's a new one in Bake Off history!”

There was a moment as the bakers absorbed this announcement. No eliminations? Hux stared at them, glad that he had already arranged his face into neutrality. Knowing that the bakers would soon start whispering amongst themselves, Snoke spoke.

“We shall be having double eliminations next week, however.” He told them, “So don't be lax.” His gaze lingered particularly upon Hux as he said this. Maz seemed to sense this and dove in before Hux could scowl back.

“It was a difficult decision to make, but we thought that it seemed the fairest.” She said, her gaze flickered to Snoke for a moment as if to say _well, some of us._

Soon after this, the bakers began to disperse. There were indeed a few whispers as some people seemed to think that the turn of events were ever so slightly unfair, but no one wanted to speak too loudly with the looming figures of Hux and Ren behind them at the back of the shifting crowd. They all moved into the bracing air of the garden outside of the tent, breathing in the soft, heavy scents of the summer flowers.

Striding with purpose, Ren seemed determined to ignore the fact that Hux was keeping pace with him. Grasping his motorcycle helmet firmly in his arms, he picked his swift way across the grass, dodging a delicate flower or two that stood in his path with an unusual delicacy. Next to him, Hux took a deep breath.

“Ren?” He said, hating how weak it sounded in the open air. The great body stopped immediately, so quickly in fact that Hux almost bumped into him.

“What?” He demanded, roughly, “What have I done now?”

“Nothing.” Hux said, and he knew that this wasn't quite true, “Well, nothing, except being a decent human being.” The dark eyes searched him, waiting, and Hux knew what he was supposed to do. It took him a moment, but then, “Thank you. I lost myself in there.”

And Ren just stared at him, very still, his dark clothes almost silhouetted against the bright, blooming backdrop of the garden. He was like a statue in that soft green space, all hard lines and deliberate curves and really quite beautiful when one cared to look at him properly. That had been obvious from the start, but had never been quite clear until Hux was stood at his mercy, wondering if he had destroyed their tentative respect that had been blooming for the past few weeks. Hux gave a cough when Ren just continued to stare at him.

“Have I said something wrong again?”

The face shifted just a little.

“I'm trying to think of a reply that doesn't include telling you what an absolute fucking asshole you are.”

“Don't try, then.” Hux suggested. A twitch of a smile worked on Ren's face.

“You're a fucking asshole.” Ren told him, “But you're welcome, I suppose.”

When Ren didn't make a move towards the car park, Hux realised that he still seemed to be waiting for more from him. He guessed that he owed Ren that much.

“I apologise.” Hux said, “People don't often put themselves on the line for me. It's…hard not to think that there's an ulterior motive at play.”

“Oh.” Ren said. It seemed that he had not expected this answer. “I guess that makes sense. But not everyone's out to get you, you know. Least of all me.”

“Mmm.” Hux muttered, “Perhaps not.”

And then, absurdly, Ren brought out his hand.

“Truce?” He said, waving the large fingers in front of Hux’s face, “I'll promise not to destroy any more of your food, and you'll promise not to assume that I'm an awful human being?”

Hux had to laugh.

“Truce.” He agreed, and took the large, warm hand. Ren seemed to have his head cocked as he considered Hux’s face.

“That smile is much less scary than your other one.” He said, and Hux found that he had no answer to that.

 

 ***  
  


The next day, Hux lay on the starched single bed of his hotel room, starring up at the light cracks peppering the ceiling  like spiderwebs. The next stage of the competition was being filmed back to back with the previous one, and so the bakers that lived far off were holed up in an old hotel while they waited to be called back to the tent. Hux felt the room to be slightly mediocre to his tastes, but lying down was a balm after the frantic day before.

Even so, it was ever so slightly boring to just lie there with nothing to do. Hux half-wished he had a partner who could stay with him and offer support, as he had seen some of the other bakers doing. Vaguely, he wondered if Ren was hiding someone in his room, although he was fairly certain that he had seen the tall, dark figure lugging a single suitcase up the stairs and hadn't seen him since. Frowning, Hux turned over on the bed, wondering why he even cared.

When the sun began to cast its strong fingers of light through the gaps in the curtains, Hux stared at the tiny motes of dust hovering in the air until he realised that he should start getting ready. In a short time he was dressed sharply in his dark turtleneck and tight trousers, and when he reached to make a coffee with the cafetière that came with the room he realised with horror that he was fresh out.

He sat back down on the bed, frowning. He did not relish the thought of going to the breakfast room of the hotel and forcing himself to make excruciating small talk with the other bakers, most of whom he was certain either disliked him or were frightened of him. But he was dying for a coffee, and knew from experience how foul he might be without it. He wondered vaguely if the other contestants would be facing a dilemma like his, and an absurd but also tempting idea occurred to him.

Part of his mind wondering what the hell he thought he was doing, Hux treaded the gaudy patterned carpet to Ren's hotel room, the odd light flickering above him as he moved his way down. His fist hovered momentarily over the cheap wood, and then he was knocking before he could stop himself. A few knocks in, and the door swung open on its creaking hinges. He gaped.

Ren was, of all things, shirtless. Tiny droplets of water that hinted at a recent shower fell from his damp mane off hair and onto his freckled torso that seemed to have an ethereal shine in the dull doorway, the shadows etching his defined muscles to make them look even more impressive. Ren scanned the shocked Hux hovering at the threshold, but did not look the least embarrassed that he was half dressed.

"Oh." He said, sounding surprised, but not displeased, "I thought you were room service. Have you taken on a new job?"

That made Hux snap his eyes away from his absurdly thick chest.

"No." He said, attempting his usual clipped tones, "I have run out of that awful tripe they call instant coffee, but unfortunately it's the only coffee I have. I wish to propose a trade before I go into that tent and murder someone without it."

Ren's lip twitched.

"What makes you think I want to trade anything?" He asked, folding his arms as he leant  against the frame. Unfortunately, this only served to press his pecs closer together, and it was hard to look away from this somewhat mesmerising sight.

"I'll give you anything." Hux said, quite distracted, and then realised his fumble too late as Ren raised his eyebrows, “Anything from my own ingredients, of course.” He elaborated, already feeling his face burning. Ren seemed endlessly amused by him.

“Hmm.” Ren said, considering him, “I would _love_ being owed a favour. I'll give you all of my coffee and you can let me decide what that will be.”

And before Hux could protest that this wasn't exactly what he had in mind, Ren padded across the beige carpet and towards the cupboard that held the tea tray that came with the room. When Ren bent over the jar that held the coffee, Hux was treated to the sight of his deliciously broad muscled back with its multitude of freckles and criss-crossed scars, his jogging bottoms slipping dangerously on his hips. Hux swallowed. _Dear lord,_ he thought, praying to some long forgotten entity of baking, _please give me the strength not to fuck him_.

Grasping a few packets of instant coffee in his large hands, Ren twisted to see Hux still staring at him and seemed to preen, moving back across the room with exaggerated slowness. He was loving this, Hux knew, flaunting that ripped, enticing body and knowing that Hux couldn't escape or even look away. He felt decidedly hot, and it didn't have much to do with the pervasive warmth of the hotel rooms.

Thankfully, Ren reached him. He handed over the coffee and Hux took it quickly, needing to make a swift escape. Ren's hands lingered on his for just a shade too long, his grin wolfish.

“You know.” He said, when Hux grasped the coffee towards his body, “It’s pretty cute that you came here to ask for my coffee when we both know that you can get it downstairs for free.” He gave an almost stretch, knowing that Hux wouldn't be able to look away from the sight of his muscles, “Glad I could help, though.”

“Don't flatter yourself.” Hux said, but it came out a little tighter than he had intended. A deep, throaty laugh followed him as he escaped down the corridor, and Hux couldn't help the traitorous thought that he wished he had stayed in Ren's room and shut him up properly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if the formatting of this chapter is strange- I have broken my computer and had to write the entirety of this on my phone! But enjoy, this chapter is heavily influenced by the Baked Alaska Gate on the Bake Off a few years ago, I had to include it because it was one of the most hilarious/horrifying things to ever happen on the show! Poor Hux.


	4. Chapter 4

Hux thought that the next part of the competition would be easy, that he would storm through it with the skill and proficiency that he had proved thus far, sweeping himself to victory.

He was, of course, entirely wrong about this.

It was Ren’s fault. Hux was quite determined to go with this theory, because to consider the alternative was absolutely unthinkable. In week six, he found himself increasingly distracted by his tall, intense contestant. Ren just had a certain talent to draw the eye no matter what one was trying to get done; his stupidly muscled arms flashed in the corner of Hux’s eye as Ren pounded dough far too loudly, his voice a low rumble that washed over him whenever the hosts moved to his work station. When Ren leaned over their boundary to throw some banter over to him, Hux nearly dropped his bowl.

Ren, for some absurd reason, had his hair tied up in a messy bun, presumably to keep it out of his eyes in the pervading heat of the tent. The lack of his long, dark hair framing his face accentuated his cheekbones, and it unexpectedly suited him, Hux could not fail to notice. He looked quizzical as Hux, certain that his face was betraying him in that damned blotchy way it sometimes did, fumbled to save some almonds from spilling out of his slightly tipped bowl.

“Here.” Ren offered, leaning over the workspace. Before Hux could stop him, a big hand grabbed a handful of the almonds, and plopped them back into the bowl. As Ren stretched out to do this, his shirt slipped a little and Hux was treated to the slight hint of a long scar on his shoulder. He remembered seeing it from the unfortunate incident at the hotel, and forced himself to stay entirely neutral as his mind was assaulted with fresh memories of Ren’s bared torso, too beautiful to be contained in a drab hotel doorway. He liked scars. Oh, shit.

And then, Ren grinned at his forced composed expression, and Hux knew that his cheeks must at least be a little red.

“You alright?” He said, and his eyes almost sparked with amusement, “I think this is one of the first times I’ve seen you properly flustered.”

“Flustered?” Hux snorted, “Hardly. Keep your grimy paws off of my food.”

_He’s not my type, he’s not my type_ , Hux told himself in a stern sort of mantra as Ren just laughed and turned away, gripping his ceramic mixing bowl slightly harder than was strictly necessary. _You motherfucking liar,_ his brain hissed back, _he’s so your type he might as well have been handpicked by you to be on this damned show._

He carried on baking, deliberately avoiding looking at the workstation behind him and the inevitably smug face hovering there. Well, if Ren wanted to play dirty that was just fine by him. Two could play at that game. With a grim sense of determination, he put his lime and ginger meringue pie in the oven, bending down to watch its progress. He could have sworn that he had caught Ren watching him a couple of times in previous challenges when he bent over his oven, the dark head of hair turning quickly as Hux saw him spying. Hux stayed down a little longer than he really needed to, before throwing casually over his shoulder, “Ren?”

And of course, Ren was looking at him. For how long, Hux wasn’t quite sure, but his sheepish expression hinted that it had been longer than was probably appropriate. How excellent.

“Yeah?” Ren replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Hux attempted to hide his smirk.

“Could I borrow you for a second? I need your opinion on something." 

For a moment, Ren just blinked at him. He knew Hux far too well by now to see this as anything other than a trap, but curiosity got the better of him. He strode over, and the cameras were thankfully focused on Rey and Finn chatting merrily together over their respective ovens. Ren came to a stop just behind Hux’s bent body, and it was obvious that he was trying, and failing, not to look at his ass. Hux was glad that he had opted to pick his tight, black jeans today, as he knew that despite his skinny frame he looked good.

“One second,” Hoisting himself up from the ground, Hux grabbed for Ren’s forearm to drag himself upwards. This, perhaps, was a little too presumptuous, but Ren made no move to stop him, and in fact Hux could feel the strength in his arm as he helped to hoist him up. Hux took a moment to pat some flour from the front of his trousers before turning back to the unusually quiet figure.

“Over here.” He said, moving to his bowl of almonds, now sugared and prepared. Ren followed him dutifully, and Hux couldn’t help but feel just a little pleased that he was following him without question. He picked up a couple of almonds and brought them up to Ren’s plump lips, tapping on his lower lip. “Open up.” He said, sweetly.

Dark, intense eyes locked onto his, Ren did so. They really were the kind of brown that didn’t announce itself, but was soft and lovely when one looked at them properly. Hux found that he couldn’t easily look away from them, and felt his finger touch very briefly onto Ren’s lips, and even that felt like a small victory. Ren chewed and swallowed, not looking away for a second.

“And how was that?” Hux asked him. When Ren spoke, his voice was low.

“Nice.” He said, roughly, and then seemed to compose himself, “Really nice. Why are you force-feeding me almonds? You’re not even using them for this bake.”

“Oh, Ren,” Hux laughed, noticing for the first time in this close proximity that Ren had freckles on his face, and that his cheeks might, _might_ have just been a little pink, “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it? I _obviously_ want you to be intimidated by the beautiful way in which I have prepared my-“

He gave a choke as Ren darted his hand behind him, grabbed, and stuffed a few almonds in Hux’s mouth, moving too quickly for him to prevent it from happening. Hux made an ungraceful noise as Ren’s fingers lingered on his lips, pinching them closed.

“You should always try your own food.” Ren told him, innocently enough, “Or you’ll have to trust me, and where on earth would that lead you?”

Hux tried to reply, but Ren bent across him to get more almonds and he was too busy chewing to make any real words. Feeling helpless, Hux hit him in the chest, his fist making a soft thud on the wide, cream expanse of his apron. Ren laughed, and grabbed his skinny wrist to stop him from doing it again, although it didn’t hurt him at all. Hux was frustrated by this fact, and tried very hard not to be impressed with Ren’s firm grip, and tried to use his other hand to swing a punch upwards. With barely an effort, Ren had both of his wrists above his head. 

“Nice try,” His grin was very sharp as he pushed him against the worktop, “Shame you’re so tiny-“

“I am _not-“_

“Utterly tiny.”

“I am _not,_ you big oaf-“

And then, there was a very pointed cough from somewhere behind them. Both of their heads turned to see every other person in the tent watching them, contestants and camera crew alike. Their upturned faces were varying between shocked, confused and, in Leech’s case, trying furiously to get the cameras to move to their area. Feeling them watching them, Hux was very aware that Ren had him shoved unceremoniously against the worktop, holding his hands over his head; consumed with trying to get one over on Ren, he had actually forgotten that they were being filmed. Ren let go of him immediately, looking equally embarrassed at this sudden attention.

“Uh.” For some reason, Ren looked especially mortified as See-Threepio came up to him.

“Is, um, everything alright, Ren?” He asked, quite cheerfully, but with a slight undercurrent of _what on earth is going on?  
_

“Yeah.” Ren said, a little forced, “We were just…messing around.”

“Exactly.” Hux agreed, aware that out of everybody in the tent he was the one who was least likely to indulge in ‘messing around.’ See-Threepio seemed inclined to agree.

“Okay!” He said, quite brightly, “Play nice, boys. You should be pounding your dough not each-“

Luckily, Artoo emerged from nowhere and pushed See-Threepio away before he could finish this unfortunate statement. As he spluttered into the distance, Ren already had his face in one hand, muttering softly, “Oh, for fuck’s sake." 

For once, Hux was inclined to agree.

 

***  


The rest of the task was plagued with distractions. Despite his best attempts to resume his usual standard, Hux couldn’t stop thinking of Ren pressing him against the worktop, his big hands dwarfing his wrists. This, twinned with a technical challenge that was utterly alien to him gave Hux the worst task he had completed in the whole Bake Off thus far.

Fougasse was the name of the bread they were supposed to be making, and Hux stared at the vague instructions on the paper they were all provided, hardly seeing it at all. He tried to shake himself out of it; he could not afford to slip up now. They were getting closer to the end of the competition, and it would be absolutely humiliating to be kicked off now. And somewhere, in a deep part of him that he refused to acknowledge, he was fully aware that if he left the Bake Off, he would have no real reason to see Ren. He shook himself. That was a shit reason to want to stay. Hux depended on no one, he was doing this for himself, he was, he _was_ …he turned deliberately away from Ren, furious at himself for being so weak. 

The task dragged on, accentuated by his infuriating lack of knowledge. Hux got angrier and angrier the more he tried to shape the bread, and the cameras deliberately avoided him, warily watching him slap the dough down. When he was forced to turn around to gather certain ingredients, he kept on catching Ren watching him, and this somehow made him more annoyed. After the third or so time this happened and Hux continued to scowl at him, Ren seemed to get the message and hurried to work in a corner of his station, away from that molten gaze.

When Hux scored second to last in the technical, the judges tried and ultimately failed to hide their surprise. Ren coming last was no real surprise, he had always been patchy at this challenge, but he seemed especially surly this time. When the judging was over, Hux kept on hearing him sigh, so much so that he was forced to ask, “What is the _matter_ with you?”

It came out meaner than he had intended, and Ren’s jaw clenched.

“Nothing.” He said, a little petulantly. Hux tried very hard not to roll his eyes.

“Like hell it’s nothing,” Hux said, “Just because you came last isn’t the end of the world. I was just behind you and…” When Ren wouldn’t look at him, the realisation hit him smack in the face, as if he had known all along. “You were watching me, weren’t you?" 

Ren crossed his arms, breathing heavily through his nose.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He snapped. And that was all the evidence that Hux needed.

“Oh, you idiot.” Hux was torn between feeling furious and flattered, despite himself, “Why would you do that? I know it’s a shock, but I’m not perfect.”

“I,” Ren looked embarrassed, “Oh Hux, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” Hux demanded, “Do you copy me every week? Is that why you’re doing so well?” It was a low blow, and he knew it. Ren’s icy pause told him that much.

“You _motherfucker.”_ Ren said, drawing it out, “You really think I’m that shit, don’t you? And I was this close to telling you... “ He pinched the bridge of his nose, apparently too annoyed to carry on. Hux felt a strange feeling then, hearing something in Ren’s voice that he couldn’t quite work out. It thawed him, just a little.

“Tell me what?” He asked. Ren gave a sigh.

“I don’t copy you.” Ren said, with the air of someone forcing a confession, “I respect you as a baker, okay? Copying you would be an insult, because the truth is I’m a shittier baker than you. So _don’t_ insult me like that.”

And then, Hux felt this unexpected praise wash over him. Respect? He thought Ren just grudgingly thought he was a decent baker.

“I seem,” Hux started, “To have gotten the wrong end of the stick." 

This, unexpectedly, make Ren snort in derision.

“That’s the closest to an apology I’m going to get, isn’t it?” He said, raising his eyes to the heavens, “Oh well. For the record, I was looking at what you were doing in the technical, which is what _everyone_ else does, may I add. But I fucked it up without your help, actually.”

“Well, I fucked up too.” Hux pointed out, “So maybe we’re similarly skilled, after all. Your talents, like mine, obviously lie elsewhere.”

Ren opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Hux realised that it was the first proper compliment that he had paid towards Ren, and he saw the tall baker take it, absorb it, and store it somewhere within himself.

“Smooth talker.” He muttered, and then plodded to his own workstation. Hux let him go, feeling that it was probably best to let Ren cool down a little.

Unfortunately, Ren’s irritation seemed to be leaking into the third task too. Hux had seen this happen on a few previous tasks; when Ren did badly, he tended to dwell on it and he had a few close shaves early on where he just managed to stay on the show. This was fine at the beginning of the competition, where the judges were more lenient, but now they prowled between the contestants with their eagle eyes, dishing out foreboding comments to every baker. When Maz told Ren that his mixture looked a little thick, he didn’t even bother to try his usual charming persona. He just gritted his teeth and folded his arms until they got the message and left him alone.

Sorting out his baking tins, Hux tried to ignore the dark cloud clattering about behind him. It was hard, though, as for some absurd reason he felt partly responsible for it. About halfway through their allotted time, the banging and cursing got too persistent for him to ignore. He stepped to the boundary between their countertops. 

“Ren?” He called over, softly. The broad back stiffened as Ren heard his voice.

“Fuck. Off.” He muttered, too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but loud enough for Hux.

“ _Ren.”_ Hux said, sharper, “Don’t work yourself up.”

There was more muttering after this statement, too low for Hux to hear. He could tell it wasn’t friendly, however. Ren walked further away from Hux, but not before he swore that he said, “Who even cares. I’m just one less person to beat.”

There really was nothing Hux could do other than let Ren stew, and pray that he wouldn’t throw the competition away for the sake of a bad mood. It was excruciating waiting for the moment to present their bakes, and it seemed that everyone was trying to do their best to ignore Ren’s foul mood. Everyone, that was, except for See-Threepio who somehow managed to summon a strange amount of patience when it came to that tall ball of fury.

“Ren?” He said, stopping a safe distance outside of the workstation. “Are you quite okay?”

Hux expected Ren to say something surly back, but instead he closed his eyes, gripping the worktop as if to hold himself up.

“I’m finding it hard to stop being angry.” He confessed, to Hux’s surprise. See-Threepio’s eyes softened.

“Do you need to go outside?” Ren shook his head, eyes still shut, “Okay.” See-Threepio said, “Good luck anyway, Ben.”

The eyes snapped open. See-Threepio brought a hand to his mouth in horror as he saw the furious expression begin to bloom on Ren’s face.

"Oh, R-Ren," He started, but was interrupted. 

"They'll cut that." Ren hissed, eyeing the cameramen not too far away from him, "Right? They'll cut it, if they heard it?"

“I’ll tell the production team.” It was the first time that See-Threepio looked frightened of Ren, almost cowering in the face of his pure anger, “I-I’ll make sure of it.”

He scrabbled to get away then, leaving Ren breathing heavily in his own workstation. Hux tried very hard to pretend that he had not been paying attention to what had just happened, even though he had not fully understood what _had_ happened. All he knew was that Ren had worked himself into a real bad mood, and that the task was nearly over.

When the swift hand of judgement came, Hux knew already that he was in the clear. The judges loved his floral themed cake, assuring him that his presentation was as impeccable as usual. They dished out compliments to most people, and when they got to Ren, they paused. He hadn’t tried very hard with his presentation, looking like he had lost quite a bit of time with his moping. This combined with his terrible technical challenge and good but not particularly memorable first challenge was not a good sign at all. Snoke looked a little disappointed, and Ren took the disappointment hard. It did nothing to aid the sour expression on his face.

When they tasted it, Hux gave out a breath that he didn’t know that he had been holding in. Maz was smiling at Ren, and it wasn’t fake at all; it was kind. Apparently despite its lacklustre appearance it tasted good, and Hux hoped that it was enough. Why he was rooting for someone who wasn’t himself to do well, he wasn’t exactly sure, but when they were lined up at the end and Bazine took the hit to leave, Hux felt so relieved, he had to make an extra effort to keep his face composed.

Despite being saved, Ren’s face was stony. When the judgement ended and everyone gathered around Bazine to commiserate her loss and to congratulate each other on getting through to the next episode, Ren remained sat on his chair. A couple of people had given him slightly annoyed glances; obviously, they thought he had not quite deserved to be saved this week. Looking at Ren’s surly face, it almost seemed that he agreed with this judgement. Hux stopped by his chair, trying to work out if speaking to Ren would make the situation worse. He decided in the end that he was no coward.

“Well done.” He said, “It seems that they liked your bake.”

Ren continued to look glum.

“It was shit.” He sounded morose, “I scraped getting through to the next round.”

“Even so.” Hux conceded, “You were good enough to stay.”

Ren didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. He stared forwards, seeming not to take much in. Hux regarded him, chin in hand. 

“Want to go outside?” He asked, “It’s too bloody hot in here.”

To his relief, Ren nodded. When they both made their way across the tent, Hux remembered how playful they had been earlier on in the day; with Ren so sullen behind him, it almost seemed like a different lifetime. Still, he was glad that Ren was being sensible enough to follow him.

The grounds outside were as verdant as ever. They walked past the merry crimson marigolds nestled like lost treasures amongst the green, past the soft pink and purple of sweet peas, past the vast loveliness of flowers drinking in the summer sunshine. The sun was beginning to become lower in the sky, casting long shadows behind everything it touched. The day had been long and tiring, and they both breathed in the soft summer air, grateful for its freshness after the stuffy tent. When they saw a large, gnarled oak tree, Hux came to a stop, and heard Ren’s footsteps cease as well.

They both sat, the shade of the tree cool and welcome. Hux saw the long legs stretched out in the corner of his eye, and he couldn’t help but think how strange it was that Ren was sat there with him. If someone had told him that this would happen at the beginning of the competition, he would have straight out laughed in their face. But now, he was comfortable. Concerned, yes, but comfortable. He waited for a few moments before he turned to speak to his right.

“Feel any better?” He asked.

“Mmm.” Ren replied, but he did look a little calmer. The frenzy had gone from his eyes at least, and he seemed to almost sink into the bark.

“That’s good.” Hux said, wondering why on earth he continued with these paltry statements. Ren didn’t seem to mind. He appeared to be waiting for Hux to speak, so he took the opportunity, “This isn’t just about nearly losing the task, is it?”

Slowly, Ren shook his head.

“I should have gone.” He said, bitterly. “People are going to think it’s a fix. I try so…fucking hard, and people are still going to think it.”

He bent his head, eyes squeezed shut. Hux felt on the cusp of a new discovery, and knew he had to tread carefully lest he scare Ren away from telling him what was bothering him.

“What’s a fix?” Hux asked, “That you got through? Ren, it’s a competition, the judges obviously think that you’re capable-“

“You don’t understand.” Ren insisted. He was being infuriatingly cryptic, and it was beginning to get on Hux’s nerves.

“ _Make_ me understand, then.” Hux said, a little grumpily. Ren brought a hand up to run through a loose strand of hair that had escaped his bun, sighing. 

“Hux." Ren started, before faltering. He tried again, "Hux, you can't tell anyone. Please, it would ruin everything." 

Ren was so still, Hux knew that whatever he said next would either make or break this tentative peace that they had found with each other. He had to admit that he was curious.

"Alright." Hux said, knowing full well that in agreeing to this he was entering into Ren’s trust. "What is it?"

Ren sighed, "The thing is..." He started slowly and then broke into a rush, "See-Threepio and Artoo... they're my godfathers, okay?"

There was a soft, frantic fluttering as a bird took off from the tree, the only sound in their isolated place for a few beats. It took a moment for the full implications of this to compute with Hux. 

"What?" Hux said, unable to believe this. Ren looked very awkward, eyes scanning Hux’s reaction with dismay.

"They've known my mother for about a million years." He said, and then he groaned, "Oh _don't_ look at me like that."

"Like what?" Hux challenged him, though he thought he might have an idea.

"I had to audition to get here." Ren said, through gritted teeth, "Like anyone else. I had to go through so much shit, and beg so many people not to tell anyone, it's been so unbelievably stressful." And when he saw Hux’s continued disbelief, "I don't get special treatment." He insisted, hotly.

“Mmm.” Said Hux, thinking about how patient See-Threepio had been with him, how much Snoke seemed to favoured him. Ren sat up straight at this, looking even more upset.

“I don’t.” He insisted. “Hux? I don’t.”

“Okay.” Hux said, knowing how unconvinced he sounded even to his own ears. When Ren continued to look upset by this he elaborated, “Well, Snoke seems to like you a lot. I’m sorry, I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you.” 

“Oh.” Ren looked uncomfortable at this, “I don’t know why. I mean, he knows about my parents but he doesn’t exactly like them. Oh, Hux,” Ren whined, seeing his face, “I tried so hard to get here. When my godfathers got the hosting job, yeah, I thought it could maybe be my way in. But I baked for years to get to this point. Fucking _years_ Hux, and I still had to audition. This is the first year I got through.” He admitted. Something about this broke Hux through his slight feeling of annoyance.

“Right.” And then, all of a sudden, he felt bad, “Okay, I believe you. You don’t need to explain anything. “ He knew how it felt to be judged by someone because of their family connections, perhaps more than Ren knew. The look of relief from Ren was so intense, Hux wondered why he had ever doubted him.

“Thanks.” Ren said, roughly, “I know I look like a freeloader, but if I do shittily, I expect them to treat me like everyone else. And they usually do, except for today.”

Hux looked to the left, towards the distant dark green of the hedges. Some things were best said lightly, as if they did not matter at all. It wasn’t cowardice to not look at Ren; Hux just didn’t think it was fair to keep staring at him.

“You’re not shit.” Hux said, quietly. “Don’t undersell yourself. You’re far better than that.”

It was quiet for so long, Hux was unsure if he had somehow upset Ren all over again. When he decided that enough time had passed, he turned to see Ren looking at him with a very slight smile pulling at his large lips.

“I can’t work you out sometimes.” He said, “You’re so unfriendly, and even a bit scary when you want to be.” He cocked his head, “But you’re not like that. Not at all. You’re a big,” He reached out a hand to mess up Hux’s neat ginger hair, “Softie.” He finished, rubbing his head. Hux squirmed out of his grasp, spluttering.

“Ren!” He complained, wiggling away, “You’re got _flour_ on your hands, you imbecile-“ Ren gave a hearty laugh and tried to do it again, but Hux rolled on the grass to get away. Ren moved to get at him again, but Hux rolled further on the grass until he was red in the face and his apron streaked with green, and Ren was laughing so hard, he was bent over on the grass heaving. The only sound for a while was both of them breathing, each staring at the other on the ground.

Before either could say anything else, there was the sound of pattering footsteps on the distance. Neither of them moved, for it was hardly unusual for other people to be wandering the vast gardens. When it became steadily louder, however, Hux straightened, as was only proper. It meant nothing that he was all messed up and streaked with green.

Slowly, head darting left and right in her searching, Rey came to a stop when she spied the two figures sat on the ground. She stopped a few steps away, as if she was reluctant to get too close.

“Hey,” She said, still friendly despite her caution. Ren was still lying on the ground, not having bothered to get up, and she raised a quizzical eyebrow at him but said nothing. Ren lifted his head.

“Hey.” He said back, waiting for her to speak. She pointed her thumb behind her back towards the tent.

“They’re doing some of those little interviews back at the tent.” She told them, “Some of the camera people were looking for you guys and they asked me to come and find you.” She sounded a little begrudging that she had been forced to be the messenger, but she had still done it. Hux inclined his head, knowing what a strange picture he and Ren must have made together.

“Okay.” He nodded. He turned to Ren, “We should probably get back, if you can stop messing about for five whole minutes.”

“Hmm.” Ren said, but he pushed himself off of the ground, “I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.”

Rey looked a little uncomfortable at this, and Hux realised how that must have sounded. A faint inking of embarrassment spread throughout him, but he tried to hide it. They made their way as a group back to the tent, the sun dipping ever lower, their shadows long spindly things. Hux was behind Ren, watching his broad back shift as he walked. _He’s not allowed to be kicked out._ Hux decided, all of a sudden, with a determination that surprised even himself, _he’s coming to the final, with me._ There were three more stages of the competition to go before then, but by god, Ren was coming with him even if he had to be dragged there.

When they got back to the tent, Rey made a swift getaway, spying her already good friends Finn and Poe laughing together near a water dispenser. While Hux and Ren waited to be summoned by the camera crew, they stood by each other, comfortable in the other’s company. While they waited, a sudden thought occurred to Hux.

“Ben?” He said, a question. For a second, Ren’s lips pursed.

“That’s my name.” He said, dispassionately. ”Well, my old one, anyway. I would appreciate it if you didn’t use it.”

“Right.” Hux nodded, and despite how much he didn’t want to he thought it was only fair, “Armitage.” He offered, indicating himself. Ren side-eyed him.

“I know.” He said, “Ackbar called you that when we had the meeting with him.”

“Yes.” Hux did remember, and found it faintly amusing that Ren had seen fit to note down such an inconsequential detail, “But. You know. I understand.”

Ren stared for a long time, and only stopped when a shout including his name from around the corner of the tent broke him out of his reverie. With apparent reluctance, he moved towards the sound. Before he completely left Hux he threw over his shoulder. 

“Hux?”

“Yes?” Said Hux, patiently.

“I’m not just in this to win it.” He said, eyes scanning Hux, “Not anymore.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Hux to ponder his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to leave such a big gap between chapters! Unfortunately, real life caught up with me. But I am absolutely determined to finish this fic, and soon I will. So, thank you for reading, and please enjoy! Find me at Kyloripped.tumblr.com <3


	5. Chapter 5

By the end of week seven, even Hux had to admit that he had an inconvenience on his hands.

He had made a vow before he had even auditioned for the show; get in, show the judges what proper baking was, and don’t even think about making friends. The mere thought of making friends with those twee contestants the production team maddeningly seemed to prefer had made him shudder. His chats with Phasma had been purely collateral; she was blunt and dirty off camera, which he found a wonderful breath of fresh air.

But Ren, _Ren._ Try as he might, Hux just couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and throwing over a sarcastic comment or two, and hearing one thrown back over their boundary like a spear. Just couldn’t stop glancing over now and then to admire the rolled-up sleeves on those stupidly big arms. When it got to the end of the last task of the week and Phasma took the hit to leave, he was stung with a brief feeling of regret which was then almost immediately replaced with an absurd relief that Ren would be staying. Phasma clasped a large hand onto his shoulder.

“Ah.” She said, with a somewhat wistful air, “I did so want to be in the semi-final at least. Tough luck, I guess. Anyhow, _you_ -“ She squeezed his arm rather hard, “Look after that big bear, okay?”

“I have no idea who you are referring to.” Hux replied, as the bear in question shook some stray flour out of its long black hair. Phasma just laughed at him, low and hearty.

“Whatever.” She said, not believing him for a second, “He seemed stressed today. I’d be wary of another meltdown.”

“…Fine. I’ll babysit him, if I must.” Hux said, a little reluctantly. He side-eyed Ren then, as if wary that he might break down there and then. Ren just looked back at them both, wide-eyed and questioning.

“Don’t worry.” Phasma called out, voice carrying in the stuffy air, “We’re just talking about you.”

This made Ren huff. He sauntered over to them, his big boots clattering on the ground as he approached. Neither of the other remaining contestants deigned to join in their small gathering; Rey and Finn seemed to be enjoying each other’s company, hugging and laughing together at the wonderful notion that they had gotten through another week. Ren stopped next to Phasma.

“Good things, I hope?” He said, casually, but there seemed to be a slight edge to it. Before Hux could even begin to answer, Phasma butted in.

“Oh yes, of course.” She said, sweetly, “Hux was just saying how much he’d _love_ to babysit you-“

Hux elbowed her away before she could continue that traitorous train of thought.

“Weren’t you supposed to be kicked off?” Hux demanded, crossly, “Go away.” 

Phasma just continued laughing all the way to the hooks with their gathered coats on. Hux could hear it ringing through the tent as he saw Ren tight-lipped next to him. He didn’t seem to see the funny side of it.

“What?” Hux asked, although he thought he might know why.

“I don’t need babysitting.” Ren said, sounding annoyed. “Why would she say that?”

“It was a joke.” Hux wished he were just a little taller; it was irritating that Ren could loom over him in that particular way of his, trying his hardest to be intimidating. It was a waste, really, because Hux no longer found him particularly intimidating. Ren gave another huff and Hux wished he would stop. It made him sound like an angry horse.

“In that scenario, _I_ would be babysitting _you_.” Ren said, grumpily, ”I’m taller-“

“Oh, hardly.”

“And older-“

“Ren, I’m thirty-four.”

His eyes widened. There, Hux had finally caught him by surprise. He had actually wondered if Ren was younger than him; he did, after all, seem to have that bohemian I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that some of the younger guys at the office also had. Ren tried to change tactic, although it was obvious that he was distracted by this unexpected fact. 

“I’m…wiser?” 

“Oh, Ren.” Hux raised an eyebrow, “Do you _really_ want to go down that route? I assure you, it will only lead to failure.”

Ren opened his mouth to retaliate, and seemed to think better of it. Refusing to accept that he had been bested by Hux, he just mumbled under his breath and shoved past him. Shunted against the worktop, Hux suppressed a laugh; he found Ren more silly than annoying these days. He had learnt to separate these mildly grumpy instances from the real thing. If, for example, Ren stilled for a moment it wasn’t the fractured calm that often precluded a meltdown. It meant that he was taking a moment to calm down, breathe and move on. On the other hand, an increase in his general clatter, sighing and hard slapping of dough on the worktop often meant a sour mood was afoot. It was rather a fun puzzle to work out for Hux, not unlike baking. He told himself that as he watched Ren move around his space.

The day moved on. Despite the staff’s best efforts to dissipate it, the eighth week was fraught with tension. It was the week that decided the quarter final, and all of the five remaining contestants eyed each other carefully. Ren, Hux, Rey, Finn and Poe. Or, Ren and Hux as a unit eyed the others fully aware that they were probably the most disliked out of them all. Even so, they were all cordial to each other as the cameras rolled and the usual banter was thrown about the tent.

The first task went as smoothly as could be expected, and Hux did well. Annoyingly so did Rey, which was quite irritating because she seemed to be improving as the weeks moved on, or at least showing some dormant skills. It seemed that there was a dark horse in the competition. He hadn’t accounted for that, and kept her in his periphery even as he watched the judges walk to Ren in that almost menacing way that they had. Ren’s expression darkened as the judges described his pies as sufficient and nothing more. Mediocrity was not tolerated well this late in the competition, and they all knew it. Despite the fact that Poe also seemed to garner a lukewarm response to his dish, Hux recognised that sour look. It did not bode well, if he had learnt anything at all.

In the second task, when Hux looked up for his cursory glance at Ren’s workstation he was treated to his lovely, broad back. This would have been more enjoyable if Ren didn’t look so stiff; when Hux changed angle slightly, he could see Ren frowning with that surly way he had. Hux took a breath, knowing from experience how even a word could be a tipping point for Ren.

“Hey.” He called over the pastel cupboards, elbows leaning on the top surface, “Shitty task, right?”

The dark eyes glanced over at him. They looked very, very pissed off.

“This is a _fucking mystery.”_ Ren grabbed the paper so hard it was beginning to wrinkle, waving the almost useless instructions in the humid air. “Six knots _and_ six balls? Seriously? Are they expecting me to pull a goddamn miracle out of my ass?” 

“Probably.” Hux said mildly, hearing the unbridled panic under his annoyance, “They probably want it to be hard considering the semi-final, don’t you think?”

Ren groaned. “Oh, the semi-final. As if I could even forget.” He shook his head like a dog shaking out water, although it seemed to do nothing to help his predicament. “ _Ah.”_ He spat, throwing the paper down in anger. 

Hux paused in his kneading then, pursing his lip. Ren was working himself up, he could see it as clear as anything, but with the cameras on them he had no idea how to even begin to make him see sense.

“Don’t lose sight now.” Hux said, softly lest the cameras pick it up, “We’re all in the same boat-“

Ren gave a harsh laugh at this, completely lacking in mirth, “Ha fucking _ha,”_ He sneered, “You’re all doing fine, all of you. It’s just me who can’t keep it together, as usual.”

Hux wanted to disagree with this, but the calmness and easiness of the other bakers was too obvious for him to do so. With reluctance, he had to turn back to his own dough before he lost too much precious time on this fiddly task of making these horrible excuses for desserts. He wanted to find whoever had assigned them to create these so called “Jumbles” and strangle them with his bare, flour covered hands. He wondered vaguely if Ren would volunteer to help him, and spent an inappropriate time thinking about his arms and how strong they might be in that scenario.

No one did very well in that task. It was laughable, the shape of the dough when all of their dishes were lined up together. Hux with his engineering expertise had almost managed to cobble together a shape that was something half-decent, but the judges seemed to be struggling to hold back their disappointment in them all. Ren was grumpy throughout, arms crossed and exuding a bad attitude. When they all stood up to do the last task Hux turned to speak to him, to say anything, but Ren was already stomping back to his oven. The poor cameramen in that section of the room seemed a little frightened to be there but were trapped by cameras and cupboards and other such equipment.

Hux tried very hard to concentrate on his last dessert, although he was almost certain that he was safe for the semi-final. Ren seemed to know that he was in hot water and wasn’t dealing well with it. He clattered about, cursing, and even See-Threepio and Artoo seemed reluctant to go over to soothe him. Hux thought this seemed a little cruel until he realised that they probably knew how to deal with Ren’s tantrums far better than he did. He took their cue and let Ren simmer by himself.

Throughout the tent there seemed to be a busy fervour, a nervous energy that affected everyone who tried to dodge out of its way. Hux heard the camera crew chatting to an animated Finn and then a determined, nimble-footed Rey, but it was all just noise to him. He rolled out dough, his freckled arms covered in flour, trying to find that fragile inner peace that often came to him when baking. He clung to it, breathing those delicious, rich smells that wafted through the air and finding comfort in measuring everything out precisely.

In the middle of this, there was the soft sound of something falling. A bowl, ingredients, a tray; Hux didn’t know what it was and wouldn’t have thought anything of it until he recognised the sound that followed after it. With a resounding smack, Ren had thrown himself onto the floor, his broad back hitting the turquoise cupboard behind him with a clatter that jolted the dishes inside of it. He threw his great head into his hands and drew his knees up as if protecting himself from the rest of the room. He made no other sound, and that almost made it seem worse somehow.

The other bakers looked up briefly at this sudden commotion and quickly looked down at their ingredients as they registered that it was Ren who had made the racket. The camera crew seemed torn between coming over to help and staying as far away as possible for their own safety. In his own area, Hux eyed him warily and felt something that he would have laughed at before entering this damn show. He felt…pity. A soft, sorry pity.

Quietly, as one approached a wounded bear, Hux padded softly towards Ren hardly caring that the cameras whirred immediately their way. He stepped over abandoned patches of flour, wafts of Ren’s oven undeniably delicious as he passed it. When he reached the prone body he stopped, the bottom of his apron only a few feet away. There was no immediate movement.

“I’m fucking _shit.”_ The muffled voice said eventually, having heard the approaching footsteps, “I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to be in the semi-final. I- don’t-“ The large hands gripped his hair, pulling.

“Ren.” Hux said softly. Too softly for the cameras. “Stop this.”

“Fuck _off-“_ A hand darted out and hurled something unidentifiable at Hux.

With a strange sort of calm, he dodged it, and what he now realised to be a ball of marzipan flew past his head. It bounced harmlessly off the side of the tent, and now the other contestants and crew tried _very_ hard to pretend that they weren’t listening in an attempt to avoid more flying missiles. Hux was made of sterner stuff however, and didn’t even move.

Eyes not leaving the shock of dark hair fallen over the hidden face, Hux leant down and placed something next to Ren’s knee. He straightened up, and made no attempts to move away. A few beats later, and the large nose lifted, a flow of hair parting as he looked up. 

“What’s this?” Ren asked in a small voice, more confused than angry. Hux shrugged, as if it were no problem at all.

“It’s a thermometer.” He ventured. “You were making spun sugar, correct?” Hux had passed two abandoned saucepans on his way there with the burnt sugar at the bottom and the source of Ren’s distress, ”You just need to gauge the temperature better. You were doing completely fine before that- it smells lovely.”

It took a moment for Ren to answer. He straightened a tad more, thawing just a little under the compliment.

“You’re just saying that.” He said cautiously.

“I am _absolutely_ not.” Hux told him, sternly, “You’re supposed to be my mortal enemy. My baking enemy, no less. Why would I even try and compliment you if I didn’t mean it?” He nudged the knee with his foot, “You’re doing an appalling job of trying to beat me, you know.”

Ren was staring at his foot, a slight crease between his eyes.

“Beat you?” He repeated, slowly.

“The competition?” Hux reminded him, “The one you’re trying to win, remember?”

“Oh.” Ren seemed taken by surprise, “That. Yes.” He enclosed his hand around the thermometer and brought it to himself as if it were something that was precious, easily broken. Hux threw caution to the wind, and offered him a hand as well. Ren blinked up at him, his expressive dark eyes very wide.

“Get up.” Hux said to him, “Don’t mope away your chances. You… could win it, you know.” It was difficult to admit, but Ren had to see sense. He had to see the potential that he was wasting.

The large hand grasped his, and Hux gritted his teeth as Ren hauled himself up, his big body unfurling from the floor. When he was straightened up, he looked unusually chagrined.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He admitted, “I’m not half as good as you- I’m just good at winging it. Always have been. I wish I had your precision.”

It was silly how much this compliment meant to Hux. He realised then, perhaps for the first time, why people made friends in the tent. He also felt a little mollified, a feeling that was exacerbated when he looked down to see that he was still holding onto Ren’s hand. Ren seemed to come to the realisation at much the same time, but Hux tugged him forwards before he could let go. 

“Come on.” Hux said, as they moved to the stovetop. “Let’s try again.”

And, strangely, Ren allowed himself to be led. He made no complaint as Hux gathered sugar and measured some water out, guiding Ren’s hand with him, showing him the proper measurements and how to work the ingredients together more efficiently. His small hand rested upon the big one, moving it this way and that, meeting no resistance. When Hux did look up, he saw See-Threepio hovering nervously at the threshold of their workspaces, looking like he wanted to intervene but wasn’t quite sure how.

“Um, boys?” He said, cautiously, “You’re not really supposed to work together…the rules, they dictate-“

“It’s alright.” Ren called over. “I know what I’m doing. Hux is, uh, here for moral support?”

“Mmm.” Hux agreed, hardly caring what it looked like with him behind Ren, guiding his hands, “That is allowed, surely?”

They both turned to look at See-Threepio, Ren imploring him with an expression that stated _please don’t mess this up for me,_ and Hux’s which simply read _mine._ Defeated, their host scuttled away to the safer area where Poe resided, though the cameras still whirred towards the odd couple together.

There was a slight scrape as Ren stirred the mixture, a little more vigorously perhaps than the poor saucepan warranted. Hux grasped his arm firmly but not too hard.

“Ah.” He said, his gaze critical, “Slower.” 

With Hux to guide him Ren slowed, but he seemed distracted. His face was very red, and it wasn’t all to do with the heat of the stove. 

“ _Slower,_ Ren.” Hux chastised him, squeezing him with his free hand to extend upon the point, “You can’t just rush into everything headfirst. Consider what you’re doing.”

“I’ve never been very good at that.” Ren got out, but he followed his order. He took a breath, and murmured with what seemed quite a bit of effort, “The cameras are on us. You’ve got to… to take your hand off my hip. I think Thanisson is worried about the, uh, family rating of this show. He looks like he’s going to cry.”

Hux then realised that in his distracted state, he hadn’t noticed that his hand had been squeezing Ren’s hip. With a jolt he figured out what that might look like to the nervous cameramen behind them, them so close and Ren looking so red-faced. Strangely, the thought made him want to laugh, but it made him no less bold. He squeezed Ren again daringly, hand on his apron.

“I think _you_ might be more worried, actually.” He said, speaking into the large ear hovering at his left just to wind up Ren even more.

Ren closed his eyes for a brief moment, but whether it was in prayer or exasperation or fear, Hux did not know.

“If this show wasn’t gonna broadcast to my mom,” He growled, “I would give _you_ a reason to be worried right now, asshole.”

Almost every head turned in alarm as Hux laughed all the way to his workspace.

The judging, surprisingly, was a breeze. It seemed that Poe had succumbed to some last minute nerves and he was chosen to leave. The other two remaining contestants seemed unable to hide their disappointment, hugging and laughing with him so much that some of the crew seemed similarly stricken. Poe put on a brave face, but seemed to be enjoying the two pairs of arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, hey.” He grinned, patting them at the same time, “Guess it was just my time to go. I’ll see you two at the final, yeah?”

“No way.” Finn shook his head, “You and Rey are absolutely coming to my apartment before then. You’re not escaping that easily, Poe.”

Poe gave a hearty laugh, and they left the room together to be interviewed outside. Various crewmembers bustled around the tent as Hux and Ren remained on the tall stools, very aware of each other. It suddenly felt awkward with so many people around them ready to listen in. The feeling increased as Hux looked up to see Ren staring at him very intently.

“Sickly, isn’t it?” He said, trying to keep it light, “Making plans with people you barely know, let alone-“

“I would very much like to know you outside of the competition.” Ren said suddenly, speaking over him. “When this is over, I…don’t want that to be the end.” He looked very, very serious, as if they were in a business meeting and he was trying to broker an important deal. Hux opened his mouth to retaliate, to tease him, to…to…he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

“Oh.” He said, his personal insistence on not making friends in the tent shattering in an instant. “Yes. I would...yes.”

The grin Ren gave him then was so genuine, so goofy that Hux knew that he might be in quite deep trouble. It was the kind of grin that the others had exchanged so easily, and he had never been quite sure what one had to do to cause it. He never dreamed that the cause one day might be himself. Hux was so taken with this thought that he was caught quite off guard when a big hand reached out to grab his chin, tilting his face up.

“My god,” Ren sounded fascinated, “Is the mighty Hux pleased at something I’ve said? Is that a real smile? Where did your scary one go?”

Hux wriggled in his grasp, but didn’t try very hard. 

“You killed it.” He said, feeling Ren’s hand move with the words, “Which is something that I feel you should apologise for, actually.”

“Apologise.” Ren repeated, sounding very interested.

Before he could say any more, a voice called his name out through the tent, cutting through the bustle of moving chairs and cameras being disassembled. A twitch of annoyance ran across Ren’s face then, and he ignored the voice. This only encouraged it to become louder and more peeved, signalling in tone that more ignoring would lead to dire consequences. He let go of Hux, looking quite regretful.

“Go.” Hux tipped his head towards the exit flap, feeling quite disappointed and not knowing why, “They probably want to hear you gush about the semi-final or some other bullshit.”

“Mmm.” Ren replied, but he seemed distracted. “I _should_ go.” He looked back at Hux, and there seemed to be a few long drawn-out seconds where he was waiting for something. Hux stared back, nonplussed. 

“They’re going to get angry if you wait any longer.” He said, emphasising it a bit.

Ren gave a sigh, and the stool scraped back. He loped to the back of the tent, and it didn’t take many of his long strides. When his tall figure had stepped out into the verdant green, Hux had the strangest feeling that perhaps Ren had been hoping that he might ask him to do something after the day wrapped up filming, or at least ask for him to stay so that they could talk for a little longer. Cursing his slowness, Hux hurried across the tent, hoping Ren hadn’t gotten too far.

Stepping around the stony courtyard, Hux looked left and right for Ren. He found nothing other than some annoyingly pretty bluebells, a weather-beaten stone pathway and the soft buzzing of insects that darted in and out of sight. He wandered around, turning this way and that, cursing the labyrinthine garden. It didn’t seem to mind him. The sun was lowering, adding a nicely tinted backdrop to the trees with their branches stretching out like fingers as he stepped through their dappled shadows.

It was a surprise when he rounded a corner and found Ren perched on a lichen covered limestone railing, the ornate carving eaten away by time and many hands running across it. He was in the middle of being interviewed and didn’t seem to have noticed the figure stumbling in, perhaps because there were so many others milling about fussing with sound and lighting and such. Hux hovered by the sidelines, interested despite his eagerness to talk to Ren. He hadn’t heard many of his interviews, having point blank refused to do joint ones with the other contestants before he was even confirmed to be on the show.

Ren was very languorous, and looked a little like a statue himself with the sharp planes of his face surrounded by the green and the soft light. Thanisson seemed to be the one interviewing him, other members of the production team hovered about and seemed unexpectedly tense. Hux wondered why until he heard Leech whisper to Unamo, “ _When_ will that idiot ask him about Hux? I tell you, the viewers are going to love it. I heard that they were getting pretty close today-“

“Okay, Kylo Ren.” Thanisson spoke, and Leech stopped talking immediately as Hux tried to back even more into the shadows, “So, you’re part of the final four contestants. How does that make you feel?"

“Well.” Started Ren, stretching it out lazily, as if it was nothing to him, “I’m not overly surprised. I wanted to do well, and I obviously have done. I thought I could do it, and it’s great to be here knowing that I’m one of the best, ha. “ 

“It was close, though.” Thanisson pointed out.

“Oh yeah, that was close.” Ren agreed, and a slight frown twitched between his eyes, “Are you talking about me losing it before?”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Thanisson looked like he regretted asking him at all. He tried to backtrack, “No, no-“

“It’s fine.” Ren waved it away generously, “I shouldn’t have lost it. It nearly cost me the competition. If it wasn’t for Hux…” He trailed off then, a smile ghosting his lips and Leech almost gave an impatient groan, cursing Thanisson’s slowness under his breath.

“Do you think you’re likely to win?” Thanisson asked, oblivious to this.

“To win?” Ren repeated, and for some reason this made him look the most amused out of anything, “Hmm, it’s funny.” Said Ren, sitting up a little straighter, hands grasping freckled limestone,“I absolutely came into this competition with the intention to win it. At first.”

“Oh?” Said Thanisson, sounding properly interested now, “What’s changed, then?”

“What’s changed?” Ren repeated, incredulously, “What do you _think’s_ changed?”

There was another pause, but this time it was charged with something else. Excitement.

“Um.” Thanisson seemed unsure how to approach this situation, and Ren all but rolled his eyes. 

“It’s Hux, of course.” Ren gave a sigh, as if the admission was a weight off of his back. Leech almost punched the air, he was so pleased. Hux was still as a stone, and could feel his face heat even as he stood.

“…Hux?” Thanisson ventured, “How has he changed you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh,” Ren seemed lost in thought, looking somewhere past the camera, “I’ve wanted to win this show for years. I tried so hard to get myself to this point, and I intended on knocking anyone out who came in my way. At first, doing badly annoyed me because I wanted it so much, you know?” He gave a laugh, “Well, took me until a few tasks in to realise that I’ve been hanging on by the skin of my teeth not because I actually want to win but because I knew that if I survived each week, if I _just_ got through each challenge then… then I would still be able to bake with Hux if I got to stay, you know?”

There was a stunned silence. But no one was quite as stunned as Hux, and his hand froze on his arm as he absorbed Ren’s words. There was a furious whispering, in the middle of which Leech hissed, “Did we catch that? Shit, we did.”

“Hux?” Thanisson managed to get out. Ren nodded.

“Yeah. What an absolute twat.” Ren snorted, looking very pleased. A crease appeared on Thanisson’s face, which Ren caught.

“Not family friendly enough?” Ren asked, and there was laughter behind him from the other crewmembers. “Is there even a family friendly way of describing Hux?”

“Um.” Said Thanisson nervously, but Ren wasn’t really listening.

“Never mind. He’s fantastic. Oh,” Ren covered his face with a hand, “Oh god, did I actually just call him _fantastic_?” He gave a disbelieving shake of his head, “Let me elaborate- he’s fantastic, and the biggest pain I’ve ever had to deal with. Ever. But it’s been a dream to bake with someone like him. Someone who won’t sugarcoat for the sake of it, you know? I cannot _wait_ to bake with him in the semi-final. What a dickhead.” He said fondly, forgetting himself again.

As the crew members muttered amongst themselves again, Hux was still stunned. He could just about register Leech leaning towards his left, looking very excited.

“Cut that.” He heard Leech mutter to Unamo, “Shit. The audience will love this, they’ll lap it up. It’s like the fucking Hunger Games.”

In the corner, Hux was trying very hard to keep a firm grasp on his emotions. He was failing miserably as a strange, hopeful wondering filled him to the brim that made him feel like he was in school again, damn it. Filled with panic, he made to reverse back around the corner, and the movement must have caught Ren’s eye because he looked up, and in no time at all had focused on the escaping Hux.

Perhaps Ren had known he was there all along. Perhaps it had been a complete surprise, as much of a jolt to him as it was to Hux. Either way, Ren looked happy to see him there. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked over at him with an expression that simply read, _well,_ _now you know._

Sinking back around the corner, Hux was in panic mode. Ren liked him, genuinely liked him. Hux could probably count on one hand the amount of people who genuinely liked him, and he wasn’t even sure if he could include any family members on the list. But now there was Ren, big, surly ridiculous Ren who thought it prudent to announce this information on television. Hux did then what he did best, and evacuated himself from an impending emotional situation.

Despite his best efforts, Hux could of course hear footsteps behind him. It was the soft slap of hurried feet on grass, and hux was torn between slowing down or speeding up and hating this flash of cowardice that threatened to overcome him. He was saved the choice when Ren, hurrying very fast, overshot him and blocked his way.

“Hux,” Ren called, a little breathlessly, “Hux, stop a second.”

Feeling foolish, Hux stopped. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he felt very embarrassed, as if he was expected to put words to something that he didn’t quite have the language for. Luckily, Ren knew him well enough by now to sense this.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Ren told him, rummaging in his pocket, “I just, now where is it, I _just_ had it,” His thick eyebrows knotted as he searched, and then with satisfaction he pulled out a small ripped off piece of paper. He straightened it out, Hux watching curiously.

“I’ve got to head off.” Ren said apologetically, “Having dinner with my parents. Totally unavoidable. Excruciating. But her and my dad and a bet that if I got to this point, dad had to buy me dinner. Bastard.” He held out the piece of paper, shaking his head, “But I want you to have this.”

Hux looked at it, and when he saw what was on it this did nothing to curb his embarrassment. “Ren,” He said, his feeling of being a teenager increasing, “Is this your _number?”_

Ren grinned at him, very cocky, “Yep. Don’t have time to put it into your phone.” He leaned over and placed it in Hux’s shirt pocket, slipping his fingers in for the hell of it, “So now you can warn me when we’re in the hotel again next week rather than trying to catch me getting changed again.”

This insinuation made Hux splutter, but Ren was already making his way to leave. He walked past Hux, expression very sly. Hux dug in his pocket and brought out the number, reading it again. It had a short message written underneath: _Ren, x._ This nearly made him choke anew.

“Ren!” He called out, “You did _not_ write a kiss on this piece of paper, you absolute-“

There was a hearty laugh, slowly fading into the distance, “I _knew_ that would piss you off.” He called over his shoulder, sounding delighted, “Hey, if you’re really lucky, the next time it might even be two.”

Hux held the piece of paper tightly in his hand wondering how on earth he was going to be able to concentrate in the semi-final.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait between chapters- I unfortunately had to pause this fic as I wrote my dissertation, which was in dire need of attention. But, we're getting close to the end now, only about one or two chapters to go! Thank you for reading and sticking through <3 As always, find me at Kyloripped.tumblr.com.


	6. Chapter 6

When the semi-final arrived, the whole entire tent was provided with the unexpected novelty that Hux might finally be cracking.

He entered the tent much the same as usual, alone and without talking to anyone. But this extended even to when Ren arrived, pulling his leather jacket off and shaking his hair free from its windswept state. When Ren turned around to greet him, Hux had headphones in and was laying out his baking spoons in height order, rearranging them and then starting over again. As this strange occurrence carried on for a few minutes, Ren got the impression that he wanted to be left quite alone.

Time passed and the crew got themselves ready for filming. Rey was asked first about how she felt to be in the semi-final, and she was so bright and animated that for a short while everything felt quite normal and relaxed. Finn was much the same, and even Ren managed to summon some enthusiasm from who knew where. But when Unamo turned to Hux he just gave her a look. No words, just a long, blistering _look_. Unamo muttered something about checking the lights on the other side of the tent and scarpered to safety.

It was Ren's turn now to watch Hux warily, unable to figure out how to talk to him in a mood like this. Hux seemed to be deliberately ignoring him, using the work surface furthest away from his. When the camera crew knew that they had to talk to him or face accusations of favouritism, he was polite enough. Or perhaps too polite. He answered very curtly and dispassionately with one word answers and the crew seemed relieved when they could move away from him.

The first task passed with excruciating slowness and everybody did pretty well even as the pressure of the penultimate episode took its toll. The palmiers that they had all made were spread out with their intricate shapes glistening with various toppings. Maz and Snoke walked past them, nodding approvingly at a few. Hux was even complimented, although Snoke seemed to take it upon himself to slip in a somewhat snide, “Very good. As is completely unsurprising.”

Hux’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing and stared into the distance. Ren watched him, wishing the cameras would stop for a moment so that they could just talk properly. But they didn't and Ren rather thought he wouldn’t appreciate having more attention on himself.

Both Finn and Rey seemed to be working overtime to inject some more cheer into the tent, but it was a difficult task considering how quiet Hux was and how concerned Ren seemed to be. The crew tried on the whole to pretend this wasn't happening, although some seemed concerned at the somewhat flat tone of this episode.

The technical challenge once again was monstrously fiddly. Savarin, a yeast cake that none of them had made much less heard of was their last technical challenge before the final, and it showed. Ren thankfully kept his head this task and every time despair threatened to rear its ugly head he remembered Hux's words. _Don't throw it away._ It was quite funny how apathetic he was about winning now. He just wanted to be in the final with Hux and tried his hardest to ensure it.

When the technical was judged, they were all pronounced as hopeless but given a pat on the back for trying as was the Bake Off way. As Snoke and Maz filed away into the judges section of the tent to be interviewed before the final deciding task of the day, Hux stayed where he was sat. His posture was very straight, hands clasped on his lap. Ren tried not to be intimidated by this outward display of calm but it was difficult.

“Hey,” He turned to the left when the production team broke up to have some lunch, “Want to go outside for a bit?”

A shake of the head was all that he got in response. Hux didn't even look at him. It was very unlike him to be so unwilling to talk, and this more than anything concerned Ren.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He ventured. Hux spoke facing forwards.

“No.”

This rebuttal made Ren bite his lip, but Hux was radiating a certain hostility that he couldn't just ignore. It was obvious that he wanted to be left alone and Ren took the cue to leave. He stepped from the oppressive atmosphere of the tent and out into the lovely, blooming garden although the sight of the bright flowers and neat trimmed hedges gave him little pleasure.

He wandered around aimlessly, feeling a bit silly to be taking a stroll in his flour-covered apron but no one gave him much notice. The wind was a soft hand sweeping everything that it touched, rifling through his hair and making the bright petals shudder beside him. Hands in his apron pocket, he continued walking and savoured the wind which was a balm from the merciless sun.

He stopped by a patch of what he recognised to be hellebore, his eyes catching on the familiar delicacy of their pink insides. The sight filled him with a warmth that the sun could not give him, a happy memory that tugged at his mind until he let it take over him. They had those flowers at home, or at least they had in one of the many homes he had lived in. He remembered his mother telling him about them as they watered the garden together, eagerly pointing out the deep pink throats amongst the surrounding green. It was one of the few pastimes they had enjoyed together; low maintenance, rewarding and she always let him plant something. It had felt…good to be trusted.

This only struck him as important to remember because of something she had said on a distant summers day when everything felt lazy and heady, the soft aroma of the yawning flowers all around them.

“ _Can you see them, Ben?” Leia pointed to a patch of flowers hidden in the corner, poking past the rest of the green. Bits of soil crumbled off her gardening gloves as she pointed, smiling at the little petals._

_“Yeah.” Ben tried hard not to roll his eyes. He was still Ben, back in those days. He was getting taller, everyone said he was going to get taller than his mother and he had no trouble seeing anything in the garden. He was almost as big as Uncle Artoo, actually-_

_“They're lovely.” Leia's voice cut through his thoughts, “And very proud. I like these kind of haughty little flowers that announce themselves for everyone to see.”_

_“You would.” Han called from somewhere behind them, “Considering that you are one. “_

_He gave a curse as Leia quite calmly took her gardening glove off and threw it behind her. From the sound of the soft_ thunk _it made as it landed, it seemed to have hit somewhere in the vicinity of his father’s head. Ben suppressed a snort._

_“Anyway.” Leia continued with dignity, “Would you water them, Ben? I just need to check these weeds over here.”_

_He moved over to them, trying to squash the slight feeling of pleasure that arose at the fact that she trusted him with the flowers she loved so much. He tipped the watering can over them, watching as droplets caught on the white edges of the petals like little pearls. A question burned in his mind, aching to escape as it often did._

_“Mom?” He called out, unable to hold it in, and after a moment Leia turned. Gardening was the time she was most patient with him, aside perhaps from baking, and a rare occurrence where she didn't tell him off for asking “too many questions”._

_“Yes?”_

_“Why do we need to water them?” Ben was enjoying his task but he was curious all the same, “They were doing fine before we came here. What’s the point?”_

_It took Leia a moment to answer. She continued digging into the earth with her trowel, a stray hair escaping her ponytail and curling around her face._

_“Well,” She said, slowly, “Just because something looks okay doesn't necessarily mean that it is. You can't just assume.”_

_“But,” Ben was confused. “They don't just look okay. They are okay.”_

_“Sometimes things don't ask to be cared for, Ben.” She smiled at him, with the strange fickle wisdom that only adults seemed to have, “They don't ask but they would like to even if they don’t exactly know it. You've just got to go with your gut. Does that make sense?”_

_“…kind of.” He admitted, although he was only half sure. He watered for a few more moments before he asked, “Why aren't you pulling up the weeds? You never do.”_

_Leia paused again over the dark upturned earth beneath her with the untouched weeds poking out as if to greet her and seemed to think for a few moments. She gestured towards the weeds, a flurry of air from her movements making the dandelion clock wriggle and release a stray seed into the air._

_“I don't have the heart to pull them up.“ She explained, as the seed floated serenely past her head, “Just because they’re considered ugly doesn't mean that they don't deserve to be here. They're annoying and don't do what I want, but I still like them. They're… rebellious, in their funny little way.”_

_That made Ben think again for a moment, cocking his head to the side as he did so. His dark hair tumbled over his shoulders, very long and extremely messy as it always was in those days. He had soil on his nose._

_“Is that why you like dad?” Ben ventured. Leia's face crinkled up in laughter, that special laugh that was always reserved for him spilling from her lips._

_“That's exactly why I like your father, Ben. Well observed! He's a dandelion if I ever saw one.”_

_Before Ben could answer there was a peeved voice from behind them, floating in the humid air.  
_

_“Hey,” Han complained, “I heard that!”_

_Ben and his mother laughed as the gardening glove sailed past them and bounced harmlessly off a tree trunk. Leia put an affectionate hand on his head and, unusual for him in those days, he let her. She smelt of soil and pulled-up grass and other summer smells. She patted his long curls and told him that he could help her bake in the kitchen later if he wanted to because he had been so lovely and helpful. They picked some wild strawberries together and he carried them to the house, glistening in the Tupperware box like little red jewels._

Strangely Ren found himself smiling at the memory, lost in that easy, rare summer. He didn't usually put much stock into such things, finding them horrendously sentimental, but he couldn't shake off his mother’s words. _Go with your gut._ Ren took a moment to look back at the flowers, wondered what had happened to his hard won Organa-Solo courage, and headed back to the tent.

As he approached the grand white awning, there was a clattering coming from inside that he could hear gathering in volume the closer he got. There was also a waft of something baking, which was especially strange as everyone was supposed to be on a break. In theory the contestants were allowed to practice baking if they really felt like they needed it but it was a rule that seemed more customary than actually taken advantage of. It seemed distinctly odd for someone to be doing it now.

Feeling somewhat wary, Ren stepped through the door. Immediately he walked into a delicious waft of something in the oven and a ginger whirlwind dancing about the kitchen. Spoons were picked up, items were weighed, and surfaces were scattered with flour and other bits of baking detritus. Hux was entirely alone and small ramekins filled with blobs of mixture were dotted around him like sacrificial offerings, as if they were spread out for some unspoken god of baking that he was trying to appease.

He looked a strange mixture between utterly calm and a little crazed, folding ingredients in a bowl with an expression completely devoid of emotion but mixing far too quickly. Scatterings from the bowl were flying onto his sleeve but, uncharacteristically, he did not wipe it away.

“Uh.” Said Ren, already lost for words at this odd scene unfolding before him. Hux side-eyed him for one second, registering his presence with cold efficiency. His expression did not change.

“I’m making soufflés.” He said, flatly, as if that wasn’t obvious, “I’ve made eight. I intend to make more.”

This extraordinary statement did nothing to put Ren at ease. Soufflés weren't on the schedule for any part of the semi-final, nor did it really make sense for him to be making them in that precise, robotic way. Ren cleared his throat, full to the brim with concern.

“Are you… alright?”

Hux stared at him, mix falling plop back into the bowl, surrounded by little soufflés with his face flushed that sweet light pink. He looked like an angry, aproned giant in a land of tiny crockery.

“Do I _look_ alright?” He said. And then, for one second his composure failed. Bowl clattering to the marble top, Hux ignored the batter oozing sluggishly onto the table as he gripped the work surface, staring down and breathing hard.

Ren was frozen at the entrance to his workspace, torn between wanting to go and comfort him and worried that any sudden movement might actually unhinge him. He stayed still in his indecision and after a few long seconds Hux spoke.

“Why do I constantly get penalised for being good?” He snarled down at the work surface, “What the _fuck_ is even the point in trying, in that case?”

For a moment, Ren was lost. And then he remembered Snoke's snide comments, the way they had washed over Hux like an outright insult.

“Oh.” Ren said, understanding, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I guess…if you're a high standard already they want to see it continue.”

Hux twitched as if Ren's comments had irritated him even more.

“And don't I know it.” He sneered, “What a lovely, heart-warming message- if you're shit and accidentally do well then you deserve to be here. But if you dare to be good, if you _dare_ to show an inch of skill then God forbid you'll ever be good enough for them. As if I’ve not experience that my _whole_ _damn_ _life.”_

There was something about this that seemed a little off. Ren could understand why Hux was upset, but he had been out of sorts before Snoke made that comment. He bit his lip, wishing he could be more eloquent, damn it. He could pretend that this was all that Hux was upset about and walk away, leaving him in peace. But then he remembered his mother’s words again: _s_ _ometimes things don't ask to be cared for._ He looked properly at Hux, at his pink-faced frothing anger, at his hurt. He was lashing out because he didn’t know how to ask for help, Ren knew it then. Ren felt very protective of him all of a sudden.

“This…isn't just about that, is it?” He ventured. When Hux froze, he knew he had hit a nerve.

The breath shuddered through him as Hux exhaled. He was quiet for a moment, as if weighing the benefits of telling Ren how he truly felt. Ren walked a little closer so that he was only a few feet away, giving Hux some space but showing him that he wasn't afraid to be there. This was quite possibly a lie, because Ren was actually just a little bit spooked by his expression.

“Please tell me.” Ren implored him, squashing the trepidation down, “I want to help.”

His earnestness seemed to thaw Hux, just a little. He straightened up, looking at Ren properly this time.

“I got a call from the production team last night.” Hux announced, and he seemed relieved to get it out, “They asked me questions which I found very impertinent.” Hux looked so angry, Ren was surprised that he was still able to talk, “And made insinuations that I am _incredibly_ insulted by.”

Wondering what could possibly have upset him so, Ren thought back to his own call the night before, “Oh?“ He said, “They rang me up last night too and just asked who I wanted to bring to the final if I got in. Or at least who I wanted filmed in the behind the scenes thing they do in the last episode, like my mom or family or whatever. Is…that what you mean?”

Hu’s jaw had been clenched shut through Ren’s words. They hadn’t done anything to calm him.

“Yes.” He said, shortly. He didn't offer any more information, and Ren let the silence drag on until he thought he was going to burst.

“So?” He complained, “I don't get how that can be insulting.”

Hux fixed him with a very steely stare. It was doubly frightening coming from the face that was usually so calm, but Ren bore the brunt of it well, staring him back just as strongly.

“Some of us.” Hux started slowly, as if each word was a burden to get out, “Don't _have_ families, Ren. And we don’t like to be reminded of that fact. Considered that?”

It was the very first time that Ren had heard a break in Hux's voice. It was obviously a very sore point for him, and unexpected to hear. Ren had always assumed that he was from a rich, well-to-do family and that he would be amused to meet them at the final. But it seemed that he was horribly mistaken.

“Oh.” Ren looked very sorry all of a sudden, “Hux-“

“I don't appreciate this insinuation that I'm somehow incomplete without some bullshit happy-go-lucky family backstory.” Hux continued, as if Ren hadn't spoken, “I told them; I don't want anybody. I don't _need_ anybody. But they kept asking, over and over, did I not have any family members? Friends? The fucking neighbour’s dog?” He shook his head, furious.

Ren gave him a moment and then edged forwards. Hux didn't seem to notice and he picked his way carefully past some mix that had fallen into the floor.

“They really upset you, huh?” Was all he could think to say. Luckily, Hux seemed too distracted to be upset by this somewhat paltry response.

“They made me feel like I was lying.” Hux said, with a bite of bitterness, “Which is fairly hilarious, considering how pathetic it is to admit that it's the truth. I just _loved_ being forced to tell them that I can't bring my mother because I don’t even know her. I loved telling them that my father refused to acknowledge that I was even participating on this show. Absolutely loved it. I absolutely-“ Hux turned away from him with an abrupt twist to his body.

Watching him carefully, Ren moved even closer so that they were almost touching, his apron brushing against Hux’s. His boots made a small clatter on the floor as he walked, but Hux still didn't turn to look at him.

“I don’t have anyone to win this for.” Hux said, suddenly. “No friends, and no family. I’m doing this for myself, and I didn't care about that before I came on this show. Until they _made_ me care about it. And now, it makes me feel so shit that I could go into final and know that no one cares how I’ll do.”

He made a sudden movement and grabbed the bowl, ignoring the batter that still oozed over the side. His hand was shaking. He tried mixing again despite the fact that he had already done so and the mixture was getting a little frothy. Ren watched him for a second and moved forwards.

Hux closed his eyes again as the big hand grabbed his waist and turned him around. The spoon fell to the countertop with a clatter that rang through the quiet tent and the bowl with it. When he opened them, Ren's dark eyes were very intense, and his face was very close. He brought out his other hand and lifted Hux's chin up.

“I care.” He said. Softly. Simply. As if it were absurd to think otherwise.

Hux tilted his chin up in defiance, although he felt something shift between them. He felt rather like he was prey being appraised by a very shaggy and flour-covered beast as Ren continued to stare at him, focusing now on his lips.

“What?” Hux challenged him, defiant to the last. Ren wouldn't look away. Everything seemed to slow, becoming soft and muddled like the hot air outside.

“You have chocolate on your face again.” Ren explained, looking like he was struggling not to laugh.

In that moment, Hux wanted to thump him. Instead, he kissed him.

Ren gave a soft noise of surprise as Hux leaned forwards, lips pressing against his and claiming them for his own. He tasted like the chocolate he had been using for the soufflés; rich and dark and lovely. That was all that he knew for a long while; his hand on the small of Hux’s back, the small pouting lips upon his own and the taste of chocolate so vibrant in his mouth. It seemed that Hux had been waiting to do this for as long as he had, his smaller, delicate hands wrapping around Ren’s thick waist and squeezing.

 

When Hux drew away for air Ren was staring at him again, pupils fat in his dark eyes, his already large lips redder. Hux reached up to wipe the chocolate from his face but Ren darted out to grab his wrists. Suddenly he was pinned to the cupboard of his workstation, Ren holding both of his wrists above his head as if Hux weighed no more than a sack of flour. Tiny splotches of dough unstuck from Ren’s palms and onto Hux’s skin. Only able to stare upwards and over Ren’s massive shoulder, Hux felt the lips next to his ear.

“No.” The hot breath ghosted on his cheek, “You’re cuter when you’re filthy.”

“ _Ren_.” Hux breathed, as the dark head moved and Ren licked, actually _licked,_ the side of his mouth. Tortuous, reverent, the sensation was so utterly absurd and so good that Hux groaned. “Ren,” He said again, plaintively, feeling the large nose press to his cheek and then his resilience dissolved completely, “Oh, fuck it.” He muttered, and moved his face just slightly to catch Ren’s lips again with his own.

They kissed for a while, Ren’s tongue slipping easily into Hux’s mouth, both again tasting the hint of the other’s earlier bakes, sweet and rich. Easily, Hux wrapped his legs around Ren’s waist, and one of the big hands cupped his ass so that he wouldn’t fall. This arrangement suited them both fine. When they broke apart, breathing hard, Hux rested his head on Ren’s broad chest. “You fiend.” He said accusingly, but it came out fonder than he intended, “This is an underhand tactic. A dirty, unfair tactic.”

“Is it?” Ren replied, amused, “I’m glad it’s working then- I’ve been trying to kiss your smug little face for fucking _weeks._ You’re far too much of a temptation, you asshole.”

“Me? A temptation?” Hux said innocently, and squeezed his legs harder around the thick waist, eliciting a small groan, “I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”

“Disgusting flirt.” Ren groaned, attacking Hux’s neck now, speaking in between each rough kiss, “Rolling your shirt sleeves up.” Kiss, “Bending over in front of your oven _every single day-“_

That made Hux laugh, the vibration shaking Ren’s lips on his neck.

“We’re on a baking show, you buffoon-“

“I’ve had to stare at your ass for nine fucking weeks.” Ren moaned in a long-suffering way, “It’s like they _wanted_ to torture me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Grab harder?” Hux suggested, and Ren did so. He was enjoying it immensely; the feeling of Ren’s big hands on his thighs, until a hand moved up and began sneaking under his waistband. All of a sudden, Hux became very aware of where they were and the sacrilegious nature of what they were doing under the Bake Off tent’s very roof. The nation would be scandalised.

“Not here!” His eyes darted about in horror but the cameras dotted about the room were blessedly off, the crewmembers having their lunch break elsewhere. Ren gave an annoyed grunt, but Hux put a firm hand over his to stop them wandering.

“Not in the tent.” He breathed, “I don’t want to be this year’s scandal, thank you very much. And how could I look your godfathers in the eye if I let you have your way with me?”

“ _If I let you have your way with me?”_ Ren repeated in a high-pitched imitation of Hux’s voice, “God, I’m not going to fuck you in the tent.” Ren snorted. But then his eyes widened as if struck with a sudden idea, “Unless-“

“No!” Hux laughed, thumping him on the chest, “Take me somewhere else-“

He gave a yelp as Ren, with a certain sly glint to his eye, hoisted his arms more firmly around him and began to walk him easily through the rows of ovens and worktops. Hux tried to wriggle in his grasp but was actually quite enjoying Ren’s grip around his body, and his half-heated attempts soon stopped. They didn’t go outside but Ren took them into the corridor that attached them to the little office and another adjoining tent. It was all pretty plain sailing until they turned a corner and almost collided with Thanisson. He backed against the wall, watching the strange sight of Ren holding firmly onto Hux with both of them breathless and looking very guilty. He stared at them. They stared back.

“There isn’t really a way to explain this.” Hux said, eventually. Thanisson opened his mouth to speak and seemed to think better of it. He escaped quickly down the corridor with furiously flapping footsteps which didn’t seem to stop even as he turned the corner. Ren gazed down at Hux, and he just shrugged.

“How long do you reckon we have?” Ren asked, pleasantly.

“Oh, before he tells someone or before someone else finds us?” Hux thought for a moment, “Maybe ten minutes? Fifteen if we’re lucky.”

Ren nodded at this, “That’s probably enough time.”

They entered the small office, noting that there wasn’t anyone else in there or any indication that someone had been there recently. This seemed a good a sign as any, and when the door snapped shut Ren kicked a chair in front of it just in case. Hux would have protested again at this choice of venue, but Ren settled him against the table and Hux was very intrigued when he began undoing his apron.

“I think we’d scandalise Ackbar if he knew what we were doing in here.” He said, as Ren’s fingers worked quickly undoing a knot.

“Nah.” Ren replied, sounding distant, “He’s my wingman.”

That made Hux groan, and Ren’s fingers paused momentarily.

“Oh my god,” He complained, drawing it out, “That the least sexy thing you’ve ever said to me-“

He shut up as Ren shucked his apron off and lifted his shirt to press a kiss to his midriff. Hux was more intrigued than ever at this turn of events, especially as Ren seemed so desperate for it to continue.

“Oh?” He said, grinning slyly as Ren lowered, “I actually thought you’d want me to…“ He trailed off meaningfully, watching the dark curls below him.

“Later.” Ren said, shortly, “When we’re back at the hotel. I can’t stop thinking about this. About you.”

Hux tried to be quiet as Ren pushed his legs apart to fit more easily between them, biting down on one hand and holding Ren’s shoulder with the other, but it was hard. He wasn’t sure what intrigued him most; the fact that Ren seemed to need him so badly or the fact that he seemed very at home with this sudden turn of events. He wanted to ask Ren if he often fucked people in offices, but it didn’t seem prudent somehow. At any rate, the look that he gave Hux as he took him in his mouth was very filthy and difficult to look away from. Hux bit harder on his hand to muffle an embarrassing noise at the achingly good feel of Ren’s tongue, torturously slow, and this seemed to spur him on more than anything.

Hands digging into the shoulder, the hot, furtive air of the room around them. Hux’s self-control was tested especially as Ren seemed to insist on being slow despite their time limit, seeming to savour Hux’s muffled moans too much to quicken. Hux twisted his hand then in the dark curls, sincerely hoping that no one would come into the office, as he wasn’t sure how even Ren could smooth that one over. It didn’t take him long not to care about this anymore. Back arching against the wood, he was already plotting a suitable revenge for Ren when they met up later.

“Dirty, underhand tactics.” Hux managed to force out, and Ren grinned around him, absolutely unapologetic and loving it.

 

***

 

When it was time to film the final task, everyone was mystified at Hux’s almost cheerful demeanour. Everyone except for Thanisson, who seemed unable to catch their eyes and who stayed behind a particularly large camera. Ren and Hux could hardly keep their eyes off each other, each glance sparking with the memory of what they had done, what they wanted to do. When Hux actually smiled over at him, a few of the camera crew exchanged glances, utterly lost.

They were making Fondant Fancies for the last task before the final. Thirty-six each, a frankly terrifying number, but Hux barely even felt the pressure. The ingredients felt light under his fingers, the recipe that he had followed numerous times before so easy to follow it was like reciting a story. Beat the eggs, soften the butter, mix together carefully. Ren also seemed to be doing well, a bit of his earlier cheekiness from the very first episodes coming back to him. When the camera crew asked him what the influence for his lime and ginger fondant fancies was, he couldn’t stop that big, sly grin.

“It’s Hux.” He said innocently, glancing behind at Hux’s vibrant hair that was just ever so slightly messier than usual, “Definitely.”

The camera crew coughed nervously as Hux looked up at his name. If they expected peevishness, they were however disappointed. Hux gave Ren a fondly exasperated look and, cool as ever, he said, “Am I suddenly your muse? How wonderful.” His eyebrow cocked, “Does this mean if you do well all of the credit goes to me?”

This prompted a round of laughter, which didn’t occur very often for Hux. Ren smiled, raking his eyes over him,

“Credit.” He repeated, “…Yeah.” And Hux heard something else on his tone. He turned swiftly back to his own dessert, lest his face redden again and betray him.

When the time came for judging, the tense atmosphere returned. Rey and Finn were sat very close together, and she couldn’t seem to stop giving him a little worried glance now and then. While they had all done well, he had faced a little criticism for his final dessert, although Finn didn’t seem too concerned. See-Threepio took his customary place at the front and looked very proud. He smiled especially at Ren who returned it gladly. That seemed to please their host no end.

“Ah, bless me, the semi-final.” See-Threepio sounded a mix of proud and sad, “The weeks have flown by. I think you should all be very pleased to be here in the final four, regardless of who is leaving us.”

Artoo and Maz nodded with him as Snoke regarded them all coolly, as intimidating as ever. See-Threepio stood back as Artoo stepped to the fore, patting him fondly on the small of his back to keep him together.

“It’s my pleasure to announce the Star Baker this week,” He announced, in his high ringing voice, “It is…Hux! Well done.”

Having somehow forgotten that Star Baker was even a thing, Hux only blinked as everyone clapped politely for him, and Ren slapped him on the back. This was worrying in itself, as Ren was very strong and Hux was in real danger of falling over. As the clapping faded, the room became sober once again. See-Threepio stepped forward, looking regretful.

“Unfortunately, it’s my turn to say who will be leaving us.” He glanced at the remaining four sorrowfully, “I’m so sorry to say, it’s…Finn.”

Rey let out a soft, disappointed exhale as Finn just nodded and accepted his fate. See-Threepio gestured at him sadly.

“We’ll be so sad to see you go, Finn.” He said, very sincere, “You truly were a brilliant baker. But that means that our finalists are Hux, Ren and Rey!”

And then, the spell was broken and the results finally washed over them. Finn hugged Rey, squeezing her tightly and jubilantly, and in the heat of the moment Ren turned to hug Hux. The crew watched wide-eyed as Hux was engulfed in a mighty bear hug, head squashed unceremoniously into Ren’s chest. Their confusion grew when Hux not only didn’t complain, but wrapped his arms around Ren very tightly and remained there until the clapping stopped. He was rather fond of Ren’s big barrel chest.

When the hosts had finished speaking and the filming stopped, Finn turned to smile again at Rey and it was very genuine. This seemed to be a curious talent of his.

“Hey,” He said, warmly, seeing her sad expression, “It doesn’t matter. I gave it my best shot-I’m so stoked that you’re in the final! That’s absolutely amazing.”

“Thanks.” Rey grinned at last, “I really couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Nonsense.” Finn nudged her, “You’re an excellent baker. Me and Poe are just your cheerleaders, you know.”

“I should tell him you said that.” Rey said in amusement, “He’ll probably actually come to the final in a cheerleading costume if I do.”

“I’m actually texting him right now.”

As their laughter faded around them, Ren and Hux were quiet on their seats. They were both struck with the strange unreal feeling that they had made it, that they were going to the final. They turned to each other. Ren looked very pleased, but also a bit like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Wow.” Was all he seemed able to say, “Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe they got footage of us hugging.” Was all Hux could get out. Ren sighed in an exasperated way.

“It could be worse,” He shrugged, “They might have accidentally gotten footage of you being nice or something. Wow, imagine that!”

Hux knocked him playfully, loving this shift in their relationship which meant that he could feel how solid Ren was.

“Shut up.” He said, but it was dangerously close to being fond.

Later, when the camera crew were packing up their gear, Hux found Ren pulling on his leather jacket at the coat hooks. He spent a moment admiring the generous curve of his back until Ren realised that he was there. He straightened, looking very cocky.

“Hey.” He said, “Are you watching me?”

“Yes.” Hux thought there was no point in lying. He felt as if he could watch Ren for hours and not get bored. “Did you mention something about hotel rooms…?”

Ren laughed, and it was very deep and throaty. He leaned closer to Hux, smoothing his slightly crumpled collar down. It was only fair, as he was the one who had crumpled it.

“My room, six o’clock.” He said, promptly, “I’ll text you the number when I find it out. I’ll bike into town and get us some food, then you can come to my room. Does that sound like a plan?”

Ren looked very pleased when Hux leaned up to kiss him, his big lips smiling through the kiss. Hux didn’t even care who saw them, as long as he got to feel Ren’s hand so possessive on his waist. He drew back just slightly.

“An excellent plan.” He agreed, “I really hope none of the crew are staying close to us. We might scandalise them.”

“Mmm.” Ren didn’t seem to care much, “Makes for a more interesting show, I guess. See you in a bit?”

Hux nodded and Ren let go of him. He made his way through the flap although it was with some regret, as he looked forlornly back at Hux before disappearing. Left by himself, Hux stood by the coat hooks and tried to make sense of what had happened. A few lagging crewmembers walked past who seemed from their complete disinterest in him to have been oblivious to he and Ren’s tryst. For that he was grateful, as going into the final with them whispering about them might add unnecessary stress he wanted to avoid.

Absently, Hux reached for his coat. The hours between now and seeing Ren later suddenly seemed intolerable, and he pulled it on without feeling much other than a brief stint of loneliness. He had no idea what to do with himself.

As Hux zipped the jacket, he heard the tent door open again. Thinking it was just another crew member, he was taken quite by surprise when he turned around to see a pink-cheeked Ren stood there. Breathless, he looked like he had run back to the tent in a hurry.

“Hey.” He breathed, as Hux registered his bedraggled appearance, “Ever been on a motorbike before? Fuck six o’clock.”

Hux grinned, and let Ren put a hand on the small of his back to guide him to where he had parked his bike. He could already think of a few ways he could properly show his thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter! They were so sweet that it spurred me on to write this chapter, so thank you for that. I'm not massively great at nsfw stuff so forgive me (but mostly forgive me Mary Berry for writing such a scandal in the bake off tent, dear lord). Anyways, roll on the final! As always, find me at kyloripped on tumblr <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up before this chapter begins: Snoke's a bit creepy in this chapter, sorry. I'm pretty incapable of writing him in a modern AU without him being a bit creepy, apparently. Idk if it's really worth mentioning, but just in case!!

Slowly, lazily, Hux cracked open an eye. Sunlight filtered through a gap in the cheap hotel curtains, lighting a few speckles of dust motes in the air and falling on a long flung out arm. The pair to that arm was currently wrapped snugly around him, and Hux had no complaints there. He curled up closer to the broad, bared chest and the big nose nudged him as Ren in his sleep felt Hux shift and moved his head to meet him, making an incoherent mutter. His dark eyes blinked open for a moment, unfocused.

“Go back to sleep.” Hux chastised him.

It was too early for Ren to wake and Hux was rather enjoying watching the sunlight play on his skin and his expression shift through his dream. The arm tightened around him and then became loose again as Ren faded back to sleep. Hux watched him, the eyelashes fluttering shut against the freckled cheeks, large lips parting as Ren breathed softly.

He really was beautiful, Hux mused, albeit in a less than straightforward way. He supposed that beauty didn’t always announce itself immediately, but ingrained itself so insidiously that one day it was hard to look at it and not see anything other than loveliness. That was Ren; all hard angles and soft curves that jumbled together to make something lovely. He pressed a kiss to the chest, and Ren smiled in his sleep.

Hux felt very tired and very fucked-out. It was the good kind though, an ache that sang with the memory of Ren’s hands on his skin, teeth at his neck. When they had lain back after and Ren had pulled him close to his chest and buried his face in his shoulder, Hux’s weak protestations that he should go back to his room died in his throat. Ren’s arms tightened around him in a protective cocoon and Hux allowed himself to be held. He couldn’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep in someone’s arms.

Despite his attention to Ren’s sleeping face, tiredness won out and Hux did have another little doze. He woke up when Ren sat upwards, displacing him a little as he stretched his arms out. He gave a great yawn.

“Want a drink?” Ren asked, gesturing lazily towards the tray with a cheap kettle, various teabags and little packaged biscuits. Hux stretched as well, exaggerating his yawn.

“Am I being waited on?” He said, with a smirk, “I am thoroughly enjoying this arrangement. Yes please, my lovely waitress.”

A big foot nudged him, making him gasp with the coldness of it on his warm thigh.

“You ass.” Ren complained as he pressed down relentlessly, but it was with fondness, “I’m going to eat your biscuits.”

Hux gave a squeak of indignation which was immediately cut off as Ren rose up from the bed, the covers falling off his body in a ripple as he moved forwards. He was very naked. Hux, who was still getting used to this frankly marvellous sight, was fascinated by the freckled expanse of skin. Especially entrancing was the soft curve off his ass as he walked towards the tray. He was so thick, Hux wanted to sink his teeth into him. He was pleased to see a few marks on him which showed evidence of him doing just that the night before, still pink on his chest, his neck. Hux almost hoped that the cameras would pick them up to serve Ren right. If they faded by the final he was sure to add more to the collection.

Rifling through the packets on the tray, Ren’s back was curved deliciously, long hair messed up and tumbling on his shoulders. He seemed utterly comfortable to walk around naked and somehow that made it even better. Hux liked how at home he seemed, as if they had always done this. And he liked it even better when Ren turned around sharply with that piercing gaze and said, “You really do go a lovely shade of pink when you look at my ass.”

At that, Hux probably expected he went even pinker. He tried to regain some dignity, although he wasn’t entirely sure whether he had lost that the night before when Ren had kissed him for a few solid minutes in a vain attempt to make him be a little quieter.

“It’s not my fault that you love flaunting it.” He pointed out, “What are us mere mortals supposed to do when confronted with you?”

Ren turned back to the kettle, briefly focused on pouring the water out as if the task required his utmost concentration. It took a moment for Hux to realise that the compliment meant a lot to him, more so perhaps than he had intended. He looked very, very pleased. How someone could be completely naked and in that moment look so demure was beyond Hux. It seemed to be a particular talent of his.

“What do you mean?” Ren asked, a little coyly. Hux tried hard not to roll his eyes, mostly because he found Ren’s thirst for compliments quite endearing, which was dangerous territory indeed.

“What do I mean?” Hux mused, as if he was seriously thinking it over, “What, other than the fact that you’re actually quite fucking gorgeous?”

Ren turned back to the tea, smiling down at the cups. He put a sugar cube in his, paused and then added another. He took a quick sip, still basking in the compliment.

“You’re just being sweet because you want your biscuits back.” He suggested, lifting the cups carefully in as he walked forwards lest he spill them. Hux snorted at this.

“I _want_ you back in bed.” Said Hux, waggling the cover just slightly to show he meant business, “So I can tell you the same thing in a way that you might actually understand. _Might_ being the operative word.”

Placing the cups on the bedside table, Ren looked very interested by this proposition.

“Oh?” He said, turning to Hux, “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Lots of things,” Hux mused, watching as Ren loomed over him.

He did not miss the way Ren’s eyes raked over the little skin that was showing over the covers. He was doubtless thinking of last night, or more specifically how he had thrown them to the corner of the room in his haste. One of the poor lamps had fallen over and lay rather forlornly in the corner amongst his abandoned clothes. Hux hoped they hadn’t broken it.

“Take the covers off.” Ren complained, cutting through his thoughts, “I want to see you.”

Slowly, torturously, Hux began pulling the covers down. He was quite as naked as Ren, but he thoroughly enjoyed the torture he was in as Hux slowly revealed his collarbones and then his chest. He tried not to laugh at Ren’s increasingly frustrated expression.

“This is, like, the slowest strip tease I’ve ever seen.” Ren moaned, “Why are you so shy all of a sudden?”

“Oh, I’m not shy.” Hux laughed, not speeding up in the slightest, “You’re quite fun to tease, you big softie.”

That did it. There was a definite dangerous glint to Ren’s eye as he stared at Hux for a moment, and then he jumped onto the bed. This was actually quite worrying because Ren was so damn big; the bedsprings gave a mighty complaint when he landed half on top of Hux. But Hux was quite distracted by the arms grabbing him, yanking the covers down with little grace. He laughed and laughed as Ren gave a growl and lifted him up, big hands on his waist. Ren placed him on the pillow, his delicacy at odds with his ferociousness.

Hux lay back onto the pillow as Ren kissed him, hard at first and then slowly, languorously as if they had all of the time in the world. And, Hux supposed, they probably did. He nudged his knee between Ren’s legs and felt a groan through the kiss. Ren shifted a little.

“You taste nice.” Said Ren, forehead resting against Hux’s cheek. “Minty.”

“I have a guilty confession.” Hux stroked the long hair, loving the way it parted in his fingers, “I ate the hotel chocolates on the pillow when you weren’t looking. Sorry.”

“You _monster_.”

“I know. Shame to waste it.” Hux wrinkled his nose, “You taste like over-sugared tea. How long have you been in this country? Weakling.”

Ren twisted in his grip and nipped at his ear, a little harder than was perhaps necessary. It mostly ticked though. Hux laughed and wriggled away as Ren complained, “Don’t have a go at me for how I drink your disgusting tea.”

Hux found this even more amusing, “You’re so ridiculous. I bet you pretend to drink black coffee and put three sugars in when you think no one is looking.”

Ren pouted for a moment and then relented. “I use two.” He admitted, “But I’d stare that motherfucker in the eye so they know who they’re dealing with.”

“A very _dangerous_ person, obviously.”

“Extremely dangerous.”

“I’m sorry Ren,” Hux snorted, “But I think I need some evidence to support this supposed theory-“

Hux gave a yelp as the big hands grabbed his middle and lifted him, so easily it was quite laughable. He found himself pressed to the headboard, Ren looming over him with his expression thunderous.

“I am dangerous.” Oh, that was definitely another pout. Hux tried to arrange his expression into a more innocent one. He failed immediately.

“Show me then?” He ventured, with a sly look downwards.

Hux smiled as Ren darted forwards and kissed his neck, peppering his skin with kisses that started off light and became bruising. He arched his back as Ren lingered at the spot where his jaw met his ear. He could feel Ren’s dick pressing against his stomach which was definitely intriguing, but Hux still felt a little sore after the night before. Ren had been…quite a handful, to say the least. When Ren had began undressing for the first time Hux could only stare as more and more of his beautiful body was revealed to him. When Ren was halfway to pulling his trousers and underwear off and Hux saw his dick, he lost pretty much all elegance and told Ren to fuck him there and then. That was probably around about when Ren almost destroyed the lamp. He wasn’t entirely certain about this, but that was mostly because the animal look Ren had given him had pinioned him to the bed even before the hands grabbed him roughly.

When Ren’s hand wandered to his ribs, then to his thighs, then to his ass, Hux breathed out, “Ren, I’m still a bit-”

“I know.” Ren said, softly against his skin, “I just want to feel you.”

He was much softer this morning, much slower. Hux gave an undignified whimper as one hand brushed lazily at the inside of his thigh. Although Hux had loved how rough he had been the night before, he couldn’t remember the last person who had taken the time to stroke his hips, to kiss his skin as if it was something to be revered rather than just enjoyed. The absolute attention Ren gave him, as he seemed to give to everything he loved, was very alien to him. Using some intuition unique to himself, Ren seemed to sense this and took his time.

“So soft.” He breathed. “Didn’t realise.”

“Ha,” Hux teased him, “Bet you didn’t think I would be the dangerous one after all.”

A small smile quirked at Ren’s lips, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Hux would have been tempted to reply to this, but instead he gave a little groan as Ren’s fingers trailed on his ass and then lower. He was being _very_ undignified, he knew it, but Ren stared at the red flush on his face and chest with pure delight, increasing tenfold as he slowly slipped his finger in and Hux breathed, _“F-fuck.”_ into his neck, nosing at his skin.

_“_ I love it when you’re like this.” Ren told him, easing into Hux so it wasn’t too much all at once, “Needy. Fucked-out.”

Hux bit him, teeth sinking into soft flesh. Ren seemed to be particularly enjoying this side of him, the side that bit and fought and took whatever it wanted. He shifted his finger slightly, and Hux gave another groan.

“Is that okay?” Ren asked, “Not too much?”

“No, it’s good.” Hux knew what he wanted even if he apparently went stupid when Ren was inside of him in any capacity, “More. Fuck me again.”

Again, it was much slower than the night before. It was, Hux mused as Ren spread his legs apart to fit between them, not a situation that he had ever expected to be in. Sleeping with another contestant, that was. But Ren was big, beautiful and attentive and weirdly seemed to be pleased with him too. He certainly couldn’t keep his eyes off Hux as he reached for a bottle on their bedside table. Hux wondered vaguely if he should write a letter of thanks to the production team for letting Ren on the show. It would certainly be interesting to see Thanisson’s expression as he read, “ _Thank you for letting me fuck Ren, I owe you one.”._

This thought was quite taken out of his mind when Ren was inside him again, Hux’s back arched against the covers as he fought to keep quiet. Ren, moving slowly, trailed a hand along the thighs either side of him, his gaze heavy-lidded as he seemed transfixed by Hux trying to hold himself together.

“You’re so…” Ren started, and then was captivated as Hux gave in and allowed himself a pathetic whimper. Ren pressed a biting kiss to his neck, increasing his pace and feeling Hux tighten around him, legs squeezing.

“So what?” Hux forced out with what seemed like much effort. Ren grinned against his skin.

“Beautiful. Just…beautiful.”

And then, Hux was just putty in his hands. All of his inhibitions and possibly a fair bit of his dignity was gone as he shifted his hips to meet Ren, whimpering at him to go faster, faster damn it. Ren obliged although he continued to nose Hux’s neck, whispering until he became just as incoherent as Hux.

 

***  
  


Later, Ren seemed ready for another nap. Hux was of the same opinion and curling up against Ren’s chest as the great arms cocooned him again. They were being dreadfully lazy, but when the large nose nuzzled against his shoulder Hux couldn’t find it in himself to move. They napped for a little while and when they woke it was getting on to being mid afternoon.

Yawning, Hux spoke into Ren’s chest.

“You know, it’s rather fun to sleep with the enemy. I wish I’d learnt sooner."

There was a huff of air on his shoulder, “Enemy,” Ren snorted, “It’s the Bake Off, not a warzone.”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure."

Ren nudged his shoulder playfully with his nose. But then, his voice was unusually sober as he said, “Hux?”

“Yes?”

“Whatever happens in the final…” Ren sounded a little apprehensive, “It doesn’t really matter. In the grand scheme of things, I mean.”

It took a moment for Hux to realise what Ren was saying. An unpleasant feeling came over him, as if he had been dunked in a bucket of cold water. He went stiff.

“Are you so sure of beating me?” He asked mildly enough, but Ren could hear the hurt underneath it and backtracked quickly.

“No, no, you misunderstand me,” He said in a hurry, “You’re amazing, anyone can see that. It’s just, anything could happen. You could win, but you have to admit Rey is good too. The final’s always weird to predict on this show.”

Hux softened, ”Don’t downplay your own strengths.” He chastised Ren, “You may well win.”

“Me?” Ren laughed it off, “Hmm. I’ll give it a good shot, but I find it unlikely. I’m gonna be nervous anyway.”

“Nervous?”

“Got you to impress, don’t I?” Ren grinned, “Not just the whole country, but you too. It’s a tall order.”

Hux gave a sigh, but he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

“You don’t have to impress me.” Hux told him, “In fact, I’ll tell you a secret. Lean in.”

“Oh?” Ren leaned closer to him. Hux moved his lips to the big ear, breath ghosting against the skin.

“You impressed me last night.” Hux whispered, “Fuck everyone else.”

Ren gave him a small kiss of thanks, and then rose upwards. He began to get changed and Hux followed suit, only lamenting slightly that Ren’s beautiful body was being covered up. He cheered up immensely when Ren rummaged around in his wallet and then tugged at his sleeve.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He insisted. Hux felt an absurd kind of pleasure at this.

“Oh, you _are_ doing this properly.” Hux said delightedly, “Wining and dining. I like it.”

Ren gave an embarrassed sort of smile, “You seem like a properly kind of guy. We can take them into the garden, if you’d like?”

Hux told Ren it sounded great, and after clearing themselves up they were in the hotel garden, treading a neat stone path. Hux was rather enjoying sipping his wine as Ren gesticulated wildly around, clutching a beer. He was very animated; like Hux, he seemed to be enjoying the company rather than being shut up in the hotel rooms with nothing to do. Hux almost forgot that the final was looming over them, as it felt like he was on a kind of strange holiday. Hux would often object to what he deemed flippant holiday romances, but as Ren’s gesturing brightened his face and showed his arms off nicely, Hux mused that some exceptions had to be made in extreme circumstances.

They walked around the hotel grounds together. Ren waved at a couple of people Hux recognised to be camera crew and they waved back, though they seemed rather perplexed to see them roaming together. They stared even more when Ren put a hand on the small of Hux’s back to guide him towards the shade of some tall trees in the distance. Hux might have complained about this, but he had to admit that he liked the way Ren held on to him as if to say, _mine and I don’t give a fuck who knows it._

They settled under a large oak, and this time Hux lay his head on Ren’s lap. He seemed to be fond of this arrangement, wending his hands through Hux’s ginger hair and humming a little. Hux could feel the vibrations running through Ren’s chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this good.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked after a little while as Ren continued to stroke him. The silence had felt more companionable than awkward, and Ren seemed to shake himself out of a reverie.

“Hmm?” He said, and then, “Oh. Just thinking about how much I miss my old garden. I don’t have one in my flat.”

This was interesting. From an outsider’s perspective, Ren might have looked just too intimidating to be interested in something as mundane as gardening. But then again, Hux mused, he might not have expected Ren to be skilled at baking and yet here he was. It seemed that Ren would always surprise him.

“Gardening? You?” He ventured. Ren huffed.

“I love gardening.” Ren said it so seriously, Hux couldn’t prevent a smile.

“Really?” Hux was fascinated by this. He eyed his big arms, unable to prevent himself from imagining Ren with his shirt off and hacking through pesky undergrowth. It was a very tempting vision.

“Don’t you?” Ren asked. Hux gave a shrug.

“I’m lucky enough to have a roof garden in my apartment, but it’s hard to find the time lately. Work’s been busy.”

Ren blinked at him. He gave an incredulous laugh, shaking his head a little. It was very perplexing.

“Was that…particularly funny?” Hux asked. But Ren shook his head.

“Nah, sorry.” He apologised, “I just realised…we’ve fucked and I don’t even know what your job is. “

It was Hux’s turn to blink. It took him no time to realise that he didn’t know what Ren did either. It seemed absurd that the conversation had never come up before and for the first time he was struck by how little they really knew about each other.

“I’m an Engineer.” He said, still a bit thrown, “Aeronautical, although I appreciate other disciplines.”

He couldn’t help feeling quite pleased when Ren looked impressed by this.

“ _Fuck.”_ Ren breathed, “An engineer! Do you design stuff for the military?”

Hux tried to give a demure shrug, “I have in the past.”

“Shit, that’s cool.” He nudged Hux in the shoulder, “I totally see it now. The precision thing makes sense, how did I not guess it?”

Hux inclined his head modestly. It wasn’t often that people seemed impressed with his job, although he saw the spark of something in Ren’s eyes that hinted that he had a similar love of things mechanical. The motorbike was a clue, certainly.

“So, what do you do?” He asked, just as interested in Ren’s personal life. For a moment, Ren looked a little like he regretted entering the conversation.

“Uh,” He said, “Oh, I feel stupid now I’ve found out your job.”

It was Hux’s turn to nudge him, “Don’t be silly.” He chastised him, “I’m sure I won’t tease you. Unless you’re something like a circus clown which would be pretty hilarious and not entirely unexp-“

“Shut up.” Ren said, but it was fond, “Alright. Well, I guess you could say I’m a freelancer.”

“A freelancer?”

“Like, a freelance artist?” Ren looked embarrassed again, “Oh god, it sounds so pretentious when I say it like that.”

“No it doesn’t!” Hux laughed. He didn’t know why Ren was so reluctant to tell him. It fitted him down to a tee. “What sort of art do you do?”

“This and that.” Said Ren, evasively, “I just get a bit…restless doing one thing, you know? Doing different stuff keeps it fresh. I had this sweet job last summer where I was at a forge for a few months. Learnt all kinds of cool shit.”

Restless. For the first time, Hux felt a little apprehension as he thought about their future after the competition. He wondered if Ren would soon get tired of him, with his interesting but very normal job, living in his lovely but fairly normal apartment. Ren seemed to sense this. He put a hand on Hux’s own, absurdly big on top of his.

“I won’t get bored of you.” He promised. “You’re way too surprising. I feel like I could know you for years and still get surprised.”

Hux didn’t know what to say to that so he stayed quiet, though he closed his eyes to best absorb Ren’s words. Ren seemed to understand and they sat in the shade until the sun dipped lower and the shadows grew longer.

The next few days were a blur. They saw Rey at some point sat at the hotel bar with her friends and gave her a polite nod which she returned. The final was in a few days, but they had odd bits of filming to do to add a bit of their background to the show. Hux was particularly nervous about this part, but Ren assured him that he could spin it from a workaholic angle, and that the audience would hardly notice his lack of family.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Ren said grimly, “My mom and dad have insisted on being in my part. I cannot imagine a worse torture.”

“Ren!” Hux found Ren’s apathy towards his parents both hilarious and exasperating, “I think you’re being a bit of a drama queen.”

Ren huffed, “You don’t know them.” He insisted, “My dad’s gonna try and embarrass me, I just know it. _And_ I swear my mom was going on about baby pictures. I’ll kill them if they even think about bringing them.”

Hux kept his mouth shut, but that was mostly to stop himself from pointing out that he would quite enjoy seeing baby pictures of Ren.

These were lovely days for both of them, lazy and a little hectic with having to pop back for the cameras now and then. But when Hux woke up with an arm flung around him or a leg wrapped around his own, he felt a headiness that the competition couldn’t have brought. The final came much too soon, popping this enjoyable bubble and bringing them back to reality.

On the day of filming, the three of them were stood stiffly in the tent; Hux, Ren and Rey. It suddenly seemed much too big, and then far too stifling with all of the other workstations empty. Somewhat nervously, Ren looked to his side in a surreptitious way at Hux. He saw Hux let it a breath, steel himself and stand up a little straighter. He looked very determined. Ren couldn't stop thinking about him as their hosts told them to begin, couldn't stop thinking about his clever hands that were currently reaching for a bag of flour stroking his skin. Ren wished he had asked for a good luck kiss.

The first task, of course, was tricky. They had to make a layered meringue crown which was lovely in theory but very fiddly in practice. The last three danced around their workstations, picking up various ingredients and measuring carefully. The camera crew went to Rey first, perhaps lured by her cheerful appearance. She had her hair in three buns to keep it out of her face and seemed very calm. She smiled at them at any rate.

“So, Rey,” One of them asked, “How does it feel to be the last girl in the tent?”

A faint crease appeared in-between her eyebrows at the word ‘girl’, and Rey paused as she poured out some cornflour. “Oh, I don’t like to think about it like that.” She explained carefully, “I mean, Phasma was great. She just had an unlucky week. We’re all pretty lucky to be here.”

“But you're all very talented.” They pointed out. Rey inclined her head, not taking her eyes off her scales.

“Yeah, true.” She conceded, “The other guys are great. But I can handle it.”

In his own area, Hux's lip twitched at being referred to as “great”. It seemed rather nice of Rey, who he hadn't spoken to much. He wondered vaguely if he had been too hard on her. But there was no time to dwell on thoughts such as these and he hurried to crack some eggs open.

All three of them did well. Snoke looked fairly amused as they walked around the workstations and purveyed the meringue desserts. His gaze seemed to linger on Ren for the longest, but Hux wasn't sure if this was mere fancy. Ren, oblivious to this, came over to Hux's area when the filming for that segment was finished and the crew walked around the cakes for a try. When Hux scooped a forkful of his meringue and offered it, Ren's hand lingered on his own for a fraction too long. A passing Thanisson spotted this and practically ran to Rey’s area as if frightened Hux would stab him with the fork for noticing. All in all, it was a very good start.

The second task, however, was fiendishly difficult. On the surface it was easy; they had to make a Victoria sponge cake with no recipe. Hux, who had made more Victoria sponge cakes than he cared to name, knew the recipe almost off by heart but it was still a tricky thing with the pressure of the competition looming over them all. He was glad to see that Ren had a good hold on his emotions, clattering about as usual but without that despair that sometimes afflicted his movements. When Hux looked at him, Ren seemed to take strength from his gaze.

Once again, they all did fairly well. Hux won the best place by a slice, Rey and Ren not looking too shabby behind him. The judges seemed a little troubled at this, as it meant that the final task would be monstrously hard to judge. As Rey had done the best in the first task and Hux best in the second with Ren avoiding any major troubles, the outcome was dependent on the final task. They would be filming it tomorrow, as the production team had hinted that it was going to be a complicated task with lots of bakes. They all felt a bit of trepidation as they packed up for the day.

Back at the hotel, Hux went to his room to have a shower. Afterwards when he lying on his bed, there wasn't long until he heard a knocking at his door. Ren was hovering there, staring down at Hux's pink skin and wet hair.

“Hey.” He said but didn't move to enter.

“Hi.” Hux replied, leaning on the door. Ren hadn't come to his room before. He was still staring at Hux with a strange mixture of hesitation and want, not stepping over the threshold.

“I just wanted to… I just wanted to say hi. We should get an early night.” He said finally, though he looked a little like he wanted to crawl into Hux's bed. Feeling that the proper thing to do would be to agree with Ren, Hux decided to fuck that and be greedy for once. He gestured behind him.

“Come in, you big oaf.” He said, very fondly, “You know what will happen if you let the worry eat you up.”

And then, Ren was in his arms, resting his head on Hux’s thin chest. He inhaled deeply to calm himself down from his nerves, and Hux wended his hands in the dark hair.

“You did well.” Ren said, muffled against him, “Congrats.”

“Hmm.” Hux wasn't entirely convinced, “I suppose we shall see tomorrow.”

Ren paused, the word ‘tomorrow’ seeming to set a new worry off within him. He turned a little and Hux saw a flash of his dark eyes.

“You're gonna meet my parents tomorrow.” Ren said with his voice heavy with apology, “I know it's really soon, I'm sorry-“

Hux shushed him with a kiss, “Ren, if I can handle the Bake Off final, I'm _fairly_ certain I can handle your parents.”

Still, Ren didn't seem convinced. But he didn't say anything and seemed content to lie on Hux.

“Anyway,” Hux said after a moment, “Be thankful you aren't meeting my father. I can’t imagine you'd get on in any capacity.”

“Oh.” Ren sounded unsure whether he should agree to this or not, “Would he not come at all?”

This prompted Hux to give a hollow laugh. “No. And I don't want him here. He made very clear what he thought of me a long time ago when I refused to go to military school. I've barely spoken to him since then.”

“And…your mother?” Ren prompted, seeming to sense that this was on Hux’s mind. He gave a gulp.

“Estranged.” Hux said, trying to keep his voice neutral, “Couldn't invite her even if I'd wanted to. And I…did want to. Quite a bit.”

The big arms enveloped him then, and it was Hux’s turn to burrow his face into Ren. Hands stroked his back, up and down soothingly as if to say, _I'm here. I'm here._

“Maybe she'll be watching.” Ren suggested kindly, “I'm sure she’ll be proud.”

Hux gave a noise, but mostly didn't trust himself to speak. He really did appreciate Ren making the effort to stay with him despite how cheerless he was being. It made this whole thing feel much less than a fling and something…more. The realisation hit him softly, then sunk its teeth in. When Ren tried half-heartedly to leave, Hux held onto him and didn't even have to say anything for Ren to sink back into the covers. It was getting dark, but Hux could feel the smile against his neck.

 

***

 

The morning of the very last task dawned bright and clear. When they woke up at an almost ungodly hour, Ren scurried to his own room to make himself look at least a little presentable, and when he returned he had a tight black shirt and that little bun in his hair. Hux closed his eyes to gather all of his strength.

“You alright?” Ren asked, with more than a little concern.

“Quite fine.” Hux replied, “I see that you continue to insist with these underhand tactics.”

Ren blinked, and then put a self-conscious hand on the back of his head. But he laughed.

The closer they got to the tent, the more agitated Ren seemed to become. The car park for the large manor house was packed with various family members and previous contestants. Hux's heart leapt as he spied Phasma chatting animatedly to Bazine as they leaned against a sleek silver car. Ren seemed to sink lower as they passed a slightly battered looking van. This was very amusing.

“How's the weather down there?” Hux asked the top of his head. Ren grumbled.

“You wait.” He assured him. “The torture is soon gonna begin.”

Shaking his head at Ren's ridiculousness, the taxi slid to a stop. They both got out and had only gotten a few steps down the dusty stone path before a voice called out,

“Ben?”

Ren closed his eyes. In a very testy voice and without turning back he called,

“It's Ren, mom. _Ren.”’_

There was the sound of light steps upon the stone. When Hux turned around he was absolutely not prepared for a very small, grey haired lady with a broad smile. There was, however, a certain cheekiness there that he had began to associate with Ren. This was accompanied by the strangest feeling that he recognised her, which didn't make sense. She was quite different to Ren, who loomed over her and yet seemed reduced to a petulant child in her presence.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” She said, not sounding sorry at all, “I forgot about your secret identity. Are you trying to escape from me?”

With a sigh, Ren turned.

“No.” He said, flatly, “But we _are_ headed to a competition, actually?”

Ren's surliness seemed not to affect her in the slightest. She had caught up to them properly, and was eyeing Hux with unashamed interest.

“Is it a crime that I want to wish you good luck?” She complained, and held out an arm, “Stop being so grumpy. You're far too much like your father sometimes.”

In a long-suffering way, Ren accepted the hug. After, Leia turned to Hux and held out a hand.

“Are you another finalist?” She asked, gaze lingering In particular on his hair. Her gaze was like a laser on his skin, and he had no doubt that she suspected exactly what he was to Ren.

“I am.” He said, and took her hand, “I'm Hux.” He added, thinking he ought to do the thing properly.

_“_ Leia.” She offered, with a knowing smile. In that moment, with that particular smile, Hux realised where he recognised her from; she was a politician for some county or another, and he had seen her in various broadcasts on the morning television before heading to work. Shit. Ren gave him a nervous look as he saw Hux flinch with recognition.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” His dull brain supplied, even as his traitorous mind offered, _and even more of a pleasure to fuck your son._ Oh god, how much power did Ren's mother have? He couldn't remember. It suddenly felt very important to gather this information in case he displeased her and ended up exiled or something just as ghastly.

“Likewise.” Leia smiled, unaware of this turmoil, “Oh! I must admit I'm quite excited, I've missed Ren baking at ours before he got on the show. I had endless cake. Will I be getting more?”

“Course you will.” Ren said, but he seemed distracted, “Where's dad?”

“Han?” Leia jerked a hand behind her, “Last I saw he was chasing Chewie past those trees. I think he saw a particularly enticing squirrel. I'll leave you to work out which one I'm talking about.”

When Hux looked perplexed, Ren muttered, “Family dog.” He seemed relieved by this snippet of information, however. He straightened up. “Oh, what a shame to miss him.” He said quickly, “We've got to go, mom. No, really, we need to get ready-“

With obvious reluctance, Leia waved them off.

“We’re very proud of you, Ren.” She called, “You know that, don't you?”

It was the first time that she seemed worried about his sharp behaviour. And, thankfully, this concern made Ren thaw.

“Yeah, thanks mom.” He shouted back, “I'll see you later, alright?”

When they were back in the cool shade of the tent, Ren let out a long breath. Hux still felt nervous, but Ren's mother had been kind enough to him. He turned to Ren, unimpressed.

“You weren't very pleasant to your mother.” Hux chastised him. Ren blinked.

“Wasn't I?” He frowned, “I didn't mean to be. I'm, for some reason, just a little bit stressed out.”

Shaking his head at him, Hux pursued to the main tent. Rey was already there, looking a little nervous but very determined. She greeted them both happily enough, although it was obvious that she still felt a bit lost without her friends. All too soon, the camera crew and their hosts filed in. See-Threepio cleared his throat.

“Alright, you lot?” He asked brightly. They all muttered their assent. “We just need to go over some protocol, let you know what the plan is and then we can begin. Is that okay?”

They all muttered again, which prompted See-Threepio to launch into an enthusiastic speech on how exciting it all was, how they would bake their desserts and then go outside to present it to the gathered friends and family, and oh my how exciting it was. Hux was feeling a bit sick. Ren was staring outside, twisting his big hands. Rey was very poised, and extremely attentive. When See-Threepio finally finished his speech, he announced that there would be a small break and then the camera crew would set up properly. They all let out a collective breath when he finished.

When Ren turned to Hux, he saw that he was looking a bit hot. Ren ached to stroke a hand across his pink cheeks, trail across his freckles, but it didn't quite seem appropriate with everyone else around them.

“I'm going to go outside.” Hux announced, “Just…just while I have the chance.”

“Okay.” Ren didn't fancy it. There was a high percentage chance that as soon as he stepped outdoors Chewie and then his father would find him. He didn't think his frayed nerves could handle it just before the final task. “I'm gonna wait here. Is that alright?”

Hux gave him a faint smile. It was ridiculous how easily they had fallen into doing things together.

“Of course.” Hux said, and then, “Good luck. In case we can't talk.”

“Good luck!” Ren called out pathetically as Hux trod to the tent door. He felt a bit lonely on his chair. After a few moments of staring at the turquoise cupboards, Ren knew he had to move or he would begin thinking about breaking things just to calm him down. It felt like a bad omen to start smashing up the tent even before the last task. See-Threepio would be so disappointed.

Wishing he had the guts to go outside, Ren wandered through the tent, not really paying attention to where he was going. He left at the opposite end from Hux, into a corridor between his tent and the office he and Hux had kissed in. He smiled idly at the memory, and almost jumped out of his skin as he saw a shape in front of him.

There was a figure stood half in shadow, watching him approach with a cold, calculating gaze. Ren came slowly to a halt as he recognised it to be Snoke, feeling a little sheepish to be caught wandering around alone.

“Uh, hi.” He said, a little awkwardly. Snoke gave him a very sharp smile.

“Kylo.” He sounded pleased, “How pleasant to run into you. Keeping well?”

Ren crossed his arms a little self-consciously. Snoke's overfamiliar smile seemed a little like a trap that would snap shut if he wandered in too deep. They had barely spoken alone.

“Well enough.” He shrugged, “The final’s pretty damn hard.”

“Oh, there's no need to worry about that.” Snoke said smoothly, “You're doing very, very well. Very well indeed.”

There was a pregnant pause in which Ren wasn't entirely certain if Snoke’s praise was appropriate or not. The judges were supposed to be pretty impartial, but the way Snoke was looking at him definitely didn't fall into that category. He felt the trap snap shut.

“Thanks.” Ren said, carefully. “I'll do my best to…carry that on.”

He really wished Snoke would stop staring at him. His pale eyes were more than a little creepy.

“Excellent.” Snoke cocked his head, “You know, you were made for television.”

“…Excuse me?” A crease appeared between Ren’s eyebrows as he tried to digest this unexpected information. Snoke didn't look put off in the slightest.

“Forgive me, Kylo, but it has to be said that you cut a striking figure.” He ignored Ren's weak protestations, “And whatever happens in this state of the competition is immaterial. It's not how you do, but who you _know.”_ He exaggerated the last word, and its suggestiveness made Ren feel hot all over.

“I-“ he began, “I don't quite-“

He stopped, eyes wide, as Snoke placed a hand on his arm. It was a mild gesture, but Ren's mind was screaming at him to run, and run away fast. His godfathers had told him plenty of tales about creepy tv executives, but he had always found them more fanciful than anything. He never thought he'd run into one here.

“Kylo?” Snoke asked, feeling him freeze. Ren took a deep breath.

“I'm not…entirely sure what you're offering me, Mr. Snoke.” He settled on eventually.

“Oh, I think you do.” Snoke said, smoothly, but he let him go. Ren breathed out, and it was loud in their confined space.

“I'll have to talk to my boyfriend.” Ren said, clearly and loudly so that Snoke couldn't pretend to misunderstand. It was the first time Ren had applied the word to Hux out loud, and even now he wondered if he was being too presumptuous. He got a frown in response.

“Boyfriend?”

Of course, Snoke would have read all of their profiles for their application onto the show. It was possibly so they could ask them questions about their family or whatnot for interviews, and Ren had definitely put that he was single. He wondered how much Snoke knew about his profile, or at least how much he had committed to memory.

“Uh, yeah.” He said, feeling nervous again, “I mean it's a… relatively new thing.”

When Snoke saw his eyes dart in the direction of the tent they baked in, it all seemed to click into place. Everyone knew who he was closest to in the tent.

“Oh, Kylo,” Snoke tutted, understanding, “You can do better than _that_.”

This, unfortunately, was the last straw for Ren. He could handle Snoke's suggestive offer, could handle being looked at like that but for him to talk about Hux as if he meant less than nothing made Ren very, very pissed off indeed.

“I _think.”_ Ren said coldly, “I'm pretty fucking good at deciding what's best for me, actually.”

The pause that followed this was particularly excruciating, filled with a coldness that Ren only bore because of his complete fury, which seemed to wrap around him like a cocoon. Snoke's lips were very pursed.

“How…disappointing.” He said, quietly. Ren twitched; disappointment always cut him to the core, and even now it hurt. He crossed his arms defiantly.

“I guess I should go back to the tent now.” He suggested. Snoke was still staring at him, but this time it was with a faint layer of irritation.

“That would be wise.” Snoke said, and without a backwards glance Ren marched back down the corridor. He knew his face must be burning.

The main tent seemed far too stifling all of a sudden. With his feeling of discomfort mounting Ren stepped out of the door and into the garden, but only went a step before he sat on the floor, head in his hands. It felt good to breathe in the soft summer air, and the sounds of people milling about in the distance were cheery. After a few moments, Ren heard footsteps and sat, hoping.

“Ren?”

His heart leapt; it was Hux. It seemed that he hadn’t gone very far on his own walk. Ren, feeling embarrassed and annoyed, merely gave a grunt. There was a pause, and then a hand moved to his jaw. Hux held his face so that Ren was forced to look up at him. The pads of his thumb stroked the cheek as he looked very concerned.

“Ren?” He said, imploringly, “You don't look well. This can't be nerves.”

Ren bit his lip. He felt a bit shaky, the way one wakes up with a jolt after falling in a dream.

“Something really weird just happened to me.” He admitted. Hux searched his face again, and didn't like what he found. He sat down beside Ren, hardly seeming to care that he was on a rough patch of grass.

“Tell me.” Hux said in a voice that brooked no argument. Ren paused, and it all came out in a rush.

“I think Snoke just tried to hit on me.” He blurted, burning with embarrassment as he admitted it. Hux went through various expressions of shock before his expression settled into fury. His body went stiff.

“What,” He hissed, “The _fuck?”_

The venom in his voice startled Ren. He tried to backtrack.

“It wasn't so bad. He was just saying some crap about connections and then he just got a bit creepy…Hux?” He finished, with concern as he saw Hux shaking with rage.

“I’m afraid that I can't go back into the tent, Ren.” Hux's voice was very strained, “Because I am going to _murder_ him.”

“Hux-“

“I'll stab him with my spatula if I have to, so help me Ren. I'll fucking crush him in the food mixer.” Hux half rose, as if he was about to fulfil his promise, “Which direction did that motherfucker go in?”

Ren reached out and grabbed his arm, half fearful that he would leave.

“It doesn't matter.” He implored Hux, “I handled it. I told him I had a bo- a partner and I think I pissed him off.”

Ren stumbled over the word boyfriend again, reluctant in case he freaked out Hux. And then, Hux's expression softened a little as he realised Ren's fumble. He seemed to understand that Ren needed him to be a little calmer about this whole situation.

“I'm not happy about this.” Hux announced, as if that wasn't obvious, “It’s not appropriate, Ren.”

“I know.” Ren agreed. “You're more upset than I thought you'd be.”

Another flash of anger passed on Hux's face before he could control it.

“Was fucking you not enough of an indication that I actually care _quite deeply_ about you?”

Ren blinked at him, “Fucking and caring aren't always the same thing.”

“Oh, Ren.” Hux sighed, “It is in this situation.”

That gave Ren pause. He knew what an effort it must have taken for Hux to admit that he cared. He was still holding Hux’s arm, and they sat together in a slightly stressed out silence, still hearing the buzz of conversation over the trees.

“We need to go back.” He said eventually, “Please try not to murder Snoke.”

“I won’t make any promises.” But Hux managed to control himself when they re-entered the tent.

When the camera crew filed back in, then the hosts and then the judges, Hux’s mouth was set in a hard line, but otherwise he showed no other sign of his fury. Ren just avoided Snoke’s gaze and stared directly into his food bowl as See-Threepio and Artoo spoke to the cameras. When they heard the, “Three, Two, One- bake!” Ren remembered with a jolt that he was supposed to be feeling nervous.

The final task was fantastical at best, pure evil at worst. They were to make what See-Threepio defined as a “Royal Picnic”, which Hux deigned to be a little twee for his tastes. But more importantly they had to make twelve each of sausage rolls, mini quiches, savoury scones and fruit and custard tarts. Oh, and a chocolate celebration cake. Hux remembered well Snoke smirking at their crestfallen faces when this eye-watering news had been delivered to them.

But all three of them were determined. They had not gotten to this point for nothing. Rey was very light on her feet, darting from work surface to work surface with steady hands. Ren was loud but sure of himself, feeling his way through the task rather than making a clear plan. Hux was as methodical as always, sticking to a strict time schedule that he refused to deviate from. They had five hours to go, and they were sure not to waste it. The camera crew dipped in and out and tried to avoid flying bits of pastry or flour as they darted between the busy bakers.

By the eighth tart he was rolling out, Hux’s arms were aching horribly. He hoped that when this episode was broadcast people would bloody appreciate the evil masterminds at the BBC, who had clearly wanted to ramp up the tension with a nigh on impossible task. Ren seemed to be in agreement, giving a growl of irritation as the pastry on one of his carefully wrapped sausage rolls unravelled. As he fought to fix it, he met Hux’s eye.

_Fucking hell,_ he mouthed desperately, hardly caring if the cameras picked it up. A stray hair had fallen across his stressed looking face, a dark line against his skin. Hux gave him a sympathetic look, but he couldn’t do much more. There was far too much to do.

The real trouble happened when the judges did their customary walk around the tables, eyeing the contestants preparing their food and offering either encouragement or frustratingly cryptic remarks. Although Maz praised the way Ren was rolling his dough, he visibly stiffened when Snoke stopped in front of him. Hux noticed this out of the corner of his eye, and stood to watch as Snoke leaned over his scattered pastries. Ren looked very uncomfortable.

“Hmm.” Snoke said, eyebrow quirked, “Sloppy.”

It was the cruellest criticism that Snoke had given him so far and Ren didn’t take it well. His face fell, and he gave a shaking breath as he turned to his left away from the judges. As the camera followed him he muttered, “C’mon, man. Don’t film me.”

A flash of Hux’s earlier anger assaulted him again, and this time it was much harder to squash down. He thought about Snoke being inappropriate to Ren, _his_ Ren, It was the thought of Snoke’s old withered hands touching any part of him that made Hux do it. Before he knew it he had walked over to Ren’s station, leaning over the side despite the decidedly frosty atmosphere.

“Oh, Ren?” He called, cheerily. The judges and Ren looked over at him, faintly perplexed at his unexpected presence. Hux ignored them; he gestured to Ren. “Come here, just a second?”

Dutifully Ren plodded over, and his face was quizzical. Hux, looking Snoke full in the face, leaned upwards to tuck away the wayward strand of hair behind his generous ear. His hand lingered on Ren’s ear for a fraction too long, and he trailed his fingertips across Ren’s jaw in a stroke on the way back down. When Snoke scowled at him, Hux felt very pleased indeed. _Take that, you slimy old git,_ he thought happily.

“We can’t have you all messy, now can we?” Hux told Ren, and as the dark eyes continued to look confused, he gestured towards the stove “Is that your sauce I can smell?”

“Yeah.” Ren said, faintly.

“Smells good. Can I try?”

Quickly, Ren leaned back and scooped a spoonful of his sauce and, hand underneath the spoon to catch any wayward drops, offered it to Hux. He chose that moment to feign surprise.

“Oh, sorry?” He leaned past Ren to look wide-eyed at Maz and Snoke, “Was I interrupting something important?”

Snoke looked furious at being interrupted, but Maz seemed to find it fairly amusing. Perhaps sensing some animosity between them all, she ushered Snoke forwards with the air of someone who was eager to avoid drama.

“Not at all,” She smiled, but carried on pushing Snoke firmly, “Let’s go and see what Rey’s up to, Snoke. Come on.”

And they began walking away, but not before Hux took a very deliberate bite off Ren’s proffered spoon, which Snoke pretended to ignore. When he was out of earshot, Ren whispered.

“You really are so bad.”

“Well, _you_ of all people should know that.”

There was a choke of laughter behind them. When Hux peered behind him he saw a very contrite looking sound technician who quailed under his gaze. They soon scarpered, leaving Ren to remain staring at Hux.

“That was lovely.” Hux assured him, “Don’t listen to that old foghorn. He’s trying to rile you up. Carry on doing what your doing.”

With a nod, Ren turned back to his station. Hux waited until he was busying himself with some task or another, and then turned back to his own baking.

The hours went by so quickly, it was as if someone had put time on fast forward. One minute Hux was rolling out dough, the next he was knelt on the floor praying that his creations wouldn’t burn. In no time his batch of pastries were out, and then another was slotted in. It was methodical but so taxing it could hardly be classed as fun. He found himself missing the earlier challenges where he and Ren could throw banter over the worktops like serves in a tennis match. They were both far too stressed out to do it now, and as time went on the stress wrapped itself around them, squeezing until it was hard to breathe in the stuffy air.

And then, See-Threepio’s voice rang through the tent and the task was over. All three bakers were leaning over their baskets to make last minute changes, but at their host’s softly spoken but firm call, they moved away. Pink cheeked and more than a little out of breath, they looked between each other, hardly able to believe that it was over. There was enough food piled around to feed a small army, and Ren looked over a mound of sausage rolls in a bit of a daze. Hux let his gaze drag to Rey’s area and his heart sank as he saw a beautifully presented selection of food. She really was rather good. How sly.

He was broken out of these thoughts as Artoo congratulated them all. He had his arm around See-Threepio’s waist, who looked a little bit teary. There were a few more words, just noise to Hux really, and then the production team swooped to secure the food onto trolleys to take outside. The judges would have another look at the food and then the winner would be announced in front of family and friends. Hux gave a gulp. A few people filed out, and he almost jumped as arms wended their way around his waist.

“Is it over?” A voice moaned into his ear, “Let it be over. Please.”

“ _Ren.”_ Hux whispered, for Rey was looking over at them strangely. The last remaining crew members seemed to be trying to escape as inconspicuously as possible, although the scrape of equipment could be heard in the background. Ren just groaned. He rested his head on Hux’s shoulder and wouldn’t be coaxed into speaking until Hux patted him on the back.

“I’m aching.” Ren complained, “And I overbaked the last batch, I _know_ I did. I-“

Hux kissed him to shut him up. Rey, looking thoroughly like she wished to be anywhere else, sped out of the tent door. Neither of them noticed. Hux had his arms around Ren’s neck as he finally gave him the good luck kiss he had quite forgotten, and Ren’s hands found their way inevitably to his ass.

“Ren.” Hux chastised him, “Don’t manhandle me too much. I won’t be able to look your parents in the eye.”

Ren gave a huff, then a deliberate squeeze and then let go. He looked nervous again. Hux allowed him to hold his hand as he dragged him to the door, but as soon as they were through he dropped it. He could see various people milling about in the distance, and he didn’t want them to be stared at more than was necessary. They walked forwards towards an open field decorated with bunting and a large trestle table. There was the distinct bark of a dog, loud in the open space and Ren automatically turned to follow it. Hux saw him trying to find it in the mass of green. He nudged Ren.

“You should go and find your parents before they announce the results. Can I…can I meet them after, please?”

Ren could sense that meeting his father would add a stress that Hux just couldn’t handle right now. He nodded, and with obvious reluctance melted into the crowds of people. Hux gave a deep breath. Before he could feel too despondent, however, a large hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hux!” It was Phasma, and she seemed delighted to find him, “You sly dog! In the final and all.”

“Phasma.” Hux said, gladder to see her than he had expected to be. She stood at least a head above everyone else, looking very sleek and collected. She seemed to find Hux’s somewhat dishevelled appearance extremely amusing.

“The final’s going well then, I see?” She asked, lip twitching at his pink face and food splattered apron, miles away from his usually impeccable appearance. Hux gave a groan.

“It’s bloody torture. It’s absolute madness what they are making us do. Have you _seen_ the pile of food?”

Phasma gave a hearty laugh, “Enough to feed a small gathering of Vikings. Oh, I do not envy you. I-“

Her expression froze for a moment as she seemed transfixed on Hux’s back. Her words seemed to die in her throat.

“Is something the matter?” Hux asked, concerned at her pause.

“Um.” Phasma said, sounding unsure. “You have, ah, handprints of flour on your arse. More than one, actually. ”

They stared at each other, and the embarrassment rolled into an even bigger crescendo as they both recognised the fact that they knew exactly _whose_ hands they belonged to.

“Ah.” Hux said slowly, “That’s rather inconvenient.”

All of a sudden, her grin was positively wolfish.

“And who, pray tell, has done that to you?” She asked, feigning innocence. “Oh Hux, on the _Bake Off-“_

“I’ve really got to go.” Hus insisted, pushing past her as he tried to make a speedy escape. Phasma snorted.

“You two are _awful.”_ She called after his retreating figure, “Absolutely awful.”

Trying to pat the flour off his trousers in the most inconspicuous way he could manage, Hux moved through the crowds. He nodded at Mitaka, said hello to Bazine and passed others who he didn’t know so well. He saw Ren in the distance with his arms around an enormously shaggy dog, burying his face into the long brown fur. The dog seemed to be enjoying the attention. It gave a loud, warbling bark and tried to lick him and Ren, laughing, ducked out of his reach. Hux was unsurprised that Ren’s family had managed to find a beast that was the match for him, and he hung back. He didn’t much like dogs.

Spying the judges and hosts in the middle of a clear space, Hux moved over to them. Rey was already there but they didn’t speak, each too full of anticipation to even think of anything to say. The camera crew fussed about and looped wire around, complaining that everything was getting all twisted. When Ren joined them he was grinning, more at ease than either of them. He settled beside Hux but didn’t say anything, perhaps understanding that he was feeling too stressed-out. The crew bustled about and the crowd around them slowly became a more solid mass as people were instructed to gather around them in preparation for the result. Poe and Finn were at the fore, grinning at Rey with a mix of encouragement and pride. Hux saw Ren’s father sneak Chewie a snack to shut his barking up. The chatter soon faded into a low sort of muttering, so low that it almost resembled the hum of the wind. It ceased entirely when See-Threepio stepped forward looking very pleased.

“Friends and family,” His gaze lingered particularly on Leia and Han as he said this, and they waved at him enthusiastically, “How lovely to see you! We’re gathered here to announce the winner of the Bake Off. Would you give it up for our final contestants: Hux, Rey and Ren!’

Loud cheers erupted from the gathered crowds. Artoo patted See-Threepio as words seemed to fail him in the heat of the final.

“What an excellent year it’s been.” Artoo said in his high voice, “Superb. We’ve had drama and tears and more than our fair share of disasters. And that’s just with me and See-Threepio.”

There was a scattering of laughter at this. Rey straightened up, looking much less nervous. Artoo put his arm around See-Threepio, and smiled at them all. “Yes, it’s been an interesting year, and the judging was terribly hard. But as always, a winner must be chosen. “

He gave a pointed look at his partner, and See-Threepio cleared his throat. A hush had fallen over the gathered crowds. Ren’s hand twitched as he itched to take Hux’s, but Hux had point blank refused to indulge in the handholding that the contestants usually did in the final. Hux was looking very still.

“I am so proud to announce,” See-Threepio started, “That the winner of this year’s Bake Off is…” He paused, face unreadable. The pause dragged on until they were all holding their breaths in anticipation. _Come on,_ Ren thought desperately, _come on this is torture enough_. He wanted it to end. And then:

“Rey! Well done.”

Immediately, there was tumultuous applause and cheering, so loud that a couple of birds took flight in alarm. Rey stood motionless next to Ren, absolutely stunned as everyone cheered for her in genuine excitement. As if on cue, two people launched themselves from the crowd in a blur and hugged her together.

“Rey! That’s so amazing!” Finn was shouting.

“We knew you could do it!” Poe grinned at her.

Beside them, Ren remained still. Strangely, he didn’t seem to care very much about losing; he knew he had botched his chances even before angering Snoke. But Hux… Hux looked very blank. He was staring down, jaw locked, ignoring the crowd that cheered for Rey. Knowing that the cameras must be focusing on them to gauge their reaction to losing, Ren tried his best “Oh well.” expression, but he couldn’t stop darting his eyes to Hux. Even as the cheers rolled on, he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hux?” Ren said, tentatively. He itched to touch him, to do anything to stop that horrible blank look. And then, Hux closed his eyes.

“Don’t, Ren.” He said, in a very tight voice, “Just, don’t.”

Ren didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as See-Threepio spoke again over the crowds, “And let’s not forget our runner ups, Hux and Ren. They did a marvellous job, absolutely spectacular.”

And then, the crowds were clapping for them. Everyone looked extremely happy despite them losing. It felt…nice to be standing there in such an enthusiastic atmosphere. Ren knew that Hux was disappointed, god how much he knew that, but it was such a lovely day and everyone was so cheerful and there was cake somewhere in the distance. He didn’t care about all of the watching faces. Ren took Hux’s hand and tugged it gently.

“Look at me.”

When Hux tried to carry on staring at the floor, Ren pulled him so that he was closer now, and had to look up.

“I thought you were the most beautiful person in the tent when we first started, did you know that?” Ren said to him, the green eyes looking up at him, “When I knew you were skilled as well, I thought, fuck I have to get to the final. I have to get to know this guy. And we made it.”

“Shame I lost.” Hux said, flatly, “I wasn’t skilled enough, clearly.”

Ren squeezed him a little harder, as if to chastise him, “Oh, winning is bullshit. You only remember people who’ve done the weird stuff like stealing custard or poisoning the judges or-“

“Sabotaging someone’s Baked Alaska?” Hux said it mildly enough, but Ren could tell that he was beginning to come back to himself.

“Yeah.” Ren said, apologetically, and then before he lost his nerve, “Or made another contestant fall so badly for them that losing didn’t even matter anymore.”

As Hux stared up at him, Ren knew that he was beginning to thaw. There was a disembodied voice behind them calling out, “We need a few words from the runners up, Ren and -“

The voice cut off as Ren and Hux kissed, right in the middle of the throng of onlookers. Ren wended his arms around Hux’s waist, lifting him a little off the ground. Hux wrapped his arms around Ren’s neck, ignoring the splatter of sauce on Ren’s apron as their chests slid together. There was an awkward pause as Ren and Hux quite forgot the gathered crowds, forgot the competition and even losing. When they had been kissing for just a fraction too long a loud voice called,

“Oh my god, get a room!”

It was Phasma, and then the spell was broken. There was a scattering of laughter and a few people wolf-whistled as they broke apart. Ren, who now had his arm snaked around Hux’s waist, didn’t seem bothered at all. He actually waved over to his mother, who seemed to be next to a grey haired man that could only be his father. Leia waved back, looking very amused. When they passed a few of the previous contestants from the show, they goggled openly at the two of them. Hux supposed that for the earlier ones it was quite a leap from he and Ren hissing at each other to kissing so openly.

Their first interview post-results was done together. The production team, looking a mix between startled and amused, led them to a stone wall with the fetching backdrop of a weeping willow. Its long tendrils brushed down towards the earth and cast a large shadow on them, which was lovely in theory but a headache for the production team. Ren sat on the stone wall, holding Hux’s hand as the team fussed about. He had refused to do the interview without Hux, much to the exasperation of Unamo and the undisguised pleasure of Leech. When everything was settled, they had to answer some standard questions on the final, which Ren handled, because Hux was still feeling too raw about it to summon the energy to lie. When the questions were clearly becoming fillers, Unamo cleared her throat.

“So, um,” She looked uncomfortable and irritated at Leech, as if he had made her say this, “When did…this happen?”

She gestured towards their hands. Hux had actually forgotten that Ren’s hand was wound onto his and immediately became embarrassed. Ren looked pleased at the question.

“Oh, not long ago.” He explained, with some of his earlier confidence as he gave Hux an encouraging squeeze. His breeziness seemed to put her at ease.

“So, this happened during the competition?” She prompted. Ren grinned.

“Yeah. But not, uh, exactly on camera if you know what I mean. More when we were…alone.”

There was a scattering of barely concealed snorts at this. Many of them had witnessed the tension between he and Ren for weeks now. Hux decided he needed to make his own perspective clear.

“Ren obviously wasn’t happy with sabotaging my desserts.” Hux said, mildly, “He managed to sabotage me in an entirely different way.”

He got a nudge for this, “Hey!” Ren complained, “You think I planned this? I was a goner as soon as you went red on day one.” He shook his head, “ _Goner.”_

Everyone laughed, especially as this prompted Hux to splutter. They spoke a little more, both warming up to the more personal questions, and then they were asked a final question of if they had any recipes they would recommend. The question seemed to give Ren pause. He side-glanced Hux for a moment.

“I know,” Ren said to the camera, biting his lip, “A really good recipe for calzone. It’s a pretty good thing to bake with someone else.” He said, directing this to his left. There was a pause as he didn’t elaborate further.

“…Right.” Replied Hux, shifting his eyes from the camera to Ren, “That’s very nice. Why are you specifically telling me this rather than the camera?”

All of a sudden, Ren looked very embarrassed. Unamo gave him a sorry look, as if she understood his pain and how obtuse Hux was being.

“Because,” He said, looking somewhere to the left of Hux, “I’d like you to make it with me. In my flat. Next week.”

There was a pause as the full implication of this hit Hux smack in the face.

“Are you asking me out properly… on television?” He blurted, knowing it was absurd to find this concept alarming considering he and Ren had already fucked.

“Only if you don’t reject me on television.” Ren said quickly, looking quite frightened that he might. And then, Unamo was laughing, and the crew were laughing and even Hux was grinning at his worried face.

“You big, soppy, soft idiot.” Hux smiled, “Yes. I think I will come and try this recipe. Anything else you would like to ask me in front of the whole nation?”

And before he could stop him, Ren was whispering in his ear. There was a great groan from Hux, drawing the eyes of the various people milling around them.

“Ren!” Hux chastised him, eyeing the camera operator warily, “Did you catch that?”

“No.” He said, sounding as though he wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or disappointed. Hux gave a sigh of relief. He turned to Ren, shaking his head. “You are utterly ridiculous, you great-“

With a laugh, Ren turned to interrupt him with a kiss. The people who had paused at the sound of Hux groaning in despair were now staring openly, some of the ex-contestants exchanging extremely bemused glances. When they broke apart, the camera crew told them that the interview was over. They hardly had time to breathe a sigh of relief before a large shape bounded through the daisies and clover, barking loudly to announce its presence.

Hux held Ren a little tighter as the beast padded into view. Ren, who seemed to find Hux’s reluctance to go near his dog quite funny, held his hand out.

“Chewie,” Ren soothed, “Where did you come from? Where’s mom-“

And then, the man who had been standing next to Ren’s mother jogged into view, looking a little bit frazzled. It seemed that the dog must have headed straight for them, and he searched left and right. When he spotted Ren and Hux on the wall, a large grin spread on his face. Ren groaned.

“Oh no.” He said under his breath, but the man walked up to them. He stopped a few feet away, taking them both in.  
  
“Hello, dad.” Ren said, already sounding irritated. He turned to his left, “Hux, this is my dad.”

“So I heard.” Hux peered at the grey haired man, very interested. He saw maybe a little resemblance, but it was mostly in the eyes. Ren’s father had a spark of cockiness that he had often seen in Ren whenever he thought he had the upper hand.

“Hey, kid.” Said Han, directing it to Ren and then looking at Hux with equal interest. “Sorry about the competition. Gotta say though I tried some of your food and only Chewie running into the horizon made me leave. I couldn’t get your mother away from the cakes.”

“Mmm.” Said Ren, reluctantly, “That’s something, I guess.”

Han shrugged, but most of his attention was still focused on Hux.

“So this is the guy you were gushing about over dinner last week. How’re you doing?” He asked, “Ren tried to show you his collection of swords yet?”

For a moment, Ren closed his eyes as if to gather some precious inner calm. His father seemed quite unaffected, giving Hux a “he does this all the time” sort of look. Hux, however, was quite distracted by the concept that Ren had been talking about him to his parents already. Perhaps sensing this when Ren opened his eyes he put an arm around Hux as if to protect him.

“Dad. This is Hux. We had sex.”

It was Hux’s turn to groan. He put his head in his hands, wishing he were anywhere else but with these two idiots.

“Ren!” He groaned, as Han laughed. He didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, he looked very amused.

“Trying to out embarrass me, son?” He said, looking quite thrilled at the challenge, “Well, tough luck. I’m your dad- embarrassing you is like second nature to me. I’m immune to your attempts.” He clapped a hand on Hux’s shoulder, “Sorry.” He said, not sounding sorry in the slightest, “Welcome to the family. I hope you can handle it.”

“Oh.” Ren pulled Hux out of his grip, “I’m certain he can. Do they have any alcohol here?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that question too.” Hux added, still feeling embarrassed.

Han seemed to find this extremely funny. Grinning in a way that really did remind Hux of a particularly smart-arse Ren, he led them back towards the food and celebration. The massive dog padded happily beside him; he had given Hux a curious sniff but seemed to give him up as a bad job when he remained clutching Ren’s arm rather than patting or fussing over him. When they got back, Han disappeared to find Leia and Hux hung back a little, sure that if he tried his food it would taste like nothing except the feeling of losing. Ren saw his reluctance. He always did. He grabbed Hux’s waist with that rough way of his, guiding him towards the laden table.

“Stop being grumpy.” He sang as Hux tried to dig his heels in, “What else can we do other than eat our cakes before anyone else can? That’s sort of a revenge.”

“Stew in bitterness?” Hux suggested, but Ren snorted and picked up one of Hux’s tarts. He wafted it in front of the scowling face.

“Mmm.” Ren said, very deliberately, “Smells amazing.”

“Smells like losing.”

Immediately, Hux was horror-struck as Ren brought the whole tart to his mouth and took a very ungraceful bite. He took another, pastry flaking down onto his apron before he said with obvious relish, “Mmm, losing tastes _good.”_

The half-eaten tart was snatched out of his hand. Ren just laughed as Hux stuffed it into his mouth just to shut him up. It tasted exactly how it should; buttery and sweet and with the unmistakeable tang of blackcurrant. But clearly, it hadn’t been enough. Trying to push this depressing thought away, he gave a mighty gulp and reached for another. Ren made no move to stop him.

“You’re so _cute_ when you’re angry.”

“If you call me cute again,” Hux hissed through a mouthful of pastry, “I’ll throw a pie in your fucking face.”

“Just lovely.” Ren sighed, “Adorable.”  
  
Hux only half kept his word. Ren found a sausage roll slapped onto his face, Hux brandishing it like a small dagger. Thus, something ensued that could have been called a minor food fight, or at least a food scuffle. By the end of it, Ren had a wiggling Hux clutched to his body while he gathered food onto a paper plate with his free hand. He had even more sauce on his apron, and a little on his face to match the flaky pastry there. People stared with undisguised amusement as Ren cheerfully dragged Hux away from the table, the plate of food held high out of his reach.

They settled away from everybody under the shade of a tall beech tree. Although Hux pretended to be annoyed with Ren, he didn’t make a move when Ren placed his head on his lap. He hummed again, picking bits of pastry out of Hux’s hair, staring out into the surrounding green. After a little while in which Hux remained silent, Ren spoke.

“Are you still being grumpy?” He ventured.

“I think.” Hux buried his face further into Ren’s lap, “That you underestimate how pissed off I really am. So yes, I am still grumpy.”

There was a huff of air on his neck as Ren gave a small laugh, “Oh _Hux_ ,” He said, patiently, “I mean, yeah we lost. And that’s pretty shit.” Ren continued, a definite smile on his voice, “But I also got a boyfriend so, you know. Kind of a lose-win situation.”

“Mmm.” Even though he was still annoyed, Ren did have a point. When Ren lay back with a soft, relieved sigh onto the grass, Hux shifted his head to the broad chest and allowed Ren to press a quick kiss to his ear. Ren wrapped a lazy arm around him.

“They’re gonna have a field day with us when they edit the show, you know.” Ren warned him, “Like, a dashing prince and damsel in distress sort of situation.”

“Excellent,” Ren’s chest was very comfortable beneath him, “Because in that scenario, you are definitely the damsel.”

Ren huffed, but conceded that Hux was probably right. It was hard to continue arguing with the sun so bright and the air so serene. Hux felt a hand stroking his hair.

“You know,” Ren started, “Considering today was a bit of a disappointment, I think we need some, uh, _cheering up_ later.”

“Certainly.” Hux liked the sound of that.

He slipped a hand under Ren’s shirt to feel his toned stomach and Ren shivered at the touch. They were nicely covered by the trees from unfriendly eyes, but Hux didn’t care much anyway. Ren had a point. Losing was painful, but he supposed that gaining a boyfriend might be somewhat more lasting than a feeling of victory and vindication that would soon fade. His heart beat a little faster. He had not applied the word ‘boyfriend’ to anyone for quite a while.

“Ren,” Hux brushed his hands across the soft skin, “You know how in the middle of that interview you lost your mind and invited me over to your flat next week?”

“…Yeah?” Ren sounded worried then, as if Hux was going to have a go at him. Hux just spread his fingers.

“How about we change it to tomorrow?” Hux suggested, “My flat. I’ve got to go back to work next week and I daresay that my kitchen is probably bigger anyway. What do you think?”

When he looked up, Ren was giving him a big, sloppy grin.

It was indeed, Hux mused as he felt a kiss at the top of his head, a lose-win situation. And for the first time that day Hux didn’t mind. He lay there, Ren around him, the long branches swaying and stroking them with shadows and knew that he would do it all again, even lose, as long as Ren was there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! This is basically the end, but I'm thinking of writing a small epilogue showing Hux and Ren watching their Bake Off a few months later, so that's why it's not complete yet. I feel a bit nervous about the sort of School of Rock-esque ending, but I hope you understand why I did it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave me such lovely feedback and @Mary Berry please forgive me for doing terrible things with the Bake Off, I'm so sorry. As ever, I'm kyloripped on tumblr <3


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a 'short' epilogue, but when is anything I ever write short. Enjoy <3

The telltale theme tune was ringing through the flat, loud and jaunty as it always was. Hux was spread leisurely on the sofa, taking up more room than was necessary just to be annoying. He shifted more comfortably on his cushion and with his eyes fixed firmly on the screen called, “You're going to miss it.”

There was a grunt in response. After a moment or two there was a rattle of cups and plates as Ren appeared bearing a tray laden with tea and a sugar-dusted chocolate tart. Hux wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't; Ren had a very pretty blush on his cheeks from leaning over the oven, and his hair was in that bun he loved so much.

He placed the tray carefully on the coffee table and plonked himself in the available space. Finding this quite inadequate, he brought out a faintly flour covered arm, grabbing Hux and pulling him onto his lap. Hux would have complained at this rough handling but Ren's body was unfortunately like a large pillow and it was a little too comfortable to move away from. A hand wended itself in his ginger hair as Ren hummed along to the Bake Off theme tune.

“Nervous?” Hux teased relaxing into the soft body. Ren snorted.

“Why would I be? I'm fucking gorgeous on camera.”

This made Hux laugh, although Ren wasn't wrong. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but the familiar faces of See-Threepio and Artoo came into focus as they smiled at the camera.

“Oh.” Hux remembered something, “They rang before, actually. I told them you'd threatened me with death if I went into the kitchen and they told me to leave you a message.”

“A message?” Ren was half glued to the television, smiling at his godfathers. “What is it?”

“They're extremely pleased at how well you've chosen your partner, specifically how very sexy he is-“ The hand smushed his head down, so Hux backtracked, “Alright! They were inviting us to dinner next week. I said we would bring dessert because last time See-Threepio’s apple crumble was frankly shocking.”

“Good, good.” Ren seemed distracted. He gave a sudden yelp and pointed to the screen, “Look, it's you!”

Fighting the urge to tell Ren it was ridiculous to get excited at seeing him on the screen when the real thing was on his lap, Hux gave his televised self a cursory glance. It was distinctly odd seeing him there, very neat and proper, hardly able to hide his disdain from the other contestants. Ren was absolutely loving it.

“Ohh,” He crooned, “You look like you've sucked a lemon. I forgot how much of a dick you were at first.”

“Shut up.” Hux would have said more but then he was quite distracted by Ren's appearance on the screen, “Oh my _god.”_ He said, suddenly as engrossed as Ren, “You look absolutely enormous compared to everyone else. Only Phasma is taller, and about half as mean looking.”

Ren squeezed him again, “Shut up.” He said, echoing Hux. They settled back into watching, engrossed by the first episode of the new series.

It was half fun to watch, half incredibly excruciating. Hux was pleased at how efficient and skilled he came across, but he also wasn't entirely sure if he just seemed like an unpleasant dickhead. Ren assured him he wasn't, stroking his head in a soothing way. 

“You're just aloof.” He shrugged, “But that's just the way you are, I think. You’re clearly amazing. Everyone knew it.”

Hux had to eat a slice of tart to stop himself from saying something woefully soppy in response. It was deliciously rich and still ever so slightly warm from the oven, the pastry buttery in his mouth. Ren had only improved after the Bake Off, taking on board some of Hux's advice. And, Hux would never admit this; he had learnt a thing or two from Ren. His precision and Ren's spontaneity might not have completely worked apart, but they complemented each other nicely at home.

However, Hux nearly choked when the camera zoomed in after a spat between he and Ren when Hux had leaned down to check his oven.

“Oh my god!” Hux exclaimed, leaning forwards in his eagerness “Did you see that? You were staring at my arse.”

Ren wasn't looking at him. He seemed very distracted by a fold in his apron, “I doubt it.” He said, a little too causally. Hux was delighted.

“No _way_.” It was Hux’s turn to be pleased now, “The camera definitely caught that. So early on?”

Ren buried his face in Hux's shoulder. That told him everything he needed to know even before Ren whined, “This is so unfair! Why wouldn't they cut it!”

Hux laughed at Ren's muffled complaint. He brought up a hand to pat his head, tucking a loose strand behind his lovely big ear.

“Never mind.” He soothed, “You got this arse eventually.”

Ren groaned and wouldn't be coaxed out until Hux waved a piece of tart in front of his head, saying very loudly how delicious it was. The dark eyes peeked up from Hux's shoulder.

“You're just saying that.” Ren said, cautiously. Hux wafted it in front of his face so it was only a few tantalising centimetres away.

“Of course I'm not.” Hux tapped it against Ren's lip. “We've been through this. If I say something is good I mean it, I won’t mollycoddle you. Actually, I'm curious- why did you make this specifically?”

Ren leaned forward for a bite and then took a moment to answer, chewing.

“Because you're my little tart.” He explained.

Hux just rolled his eyes. They resumed watching. When it got to the end of their first task and he and Ren drew for star baker, even Hux had to laugh at his plain fury on his expression.

“I forgot how annoyed I was.” He said distantly, watching the flush on his face as he glared over at Ren looking pleased on his stool. Chin resting on his shoulder and arms around his small waist, the present Ren looked very amused.

“Oh, you were _horrible_.” Ren said with glee plain in his voice, “Pissy and so prickly. I was so glad that I got on your nerves- I wanted you to notice me.” 

“That's embarrassing.”

“Hux, you're my _boyfriend.”_

“It's still embarrassing. “

Ren shook his head in exasperation, but they stayed on the sofa long after the credits had rolled past, feeding each other slivers of tart and reminiscing about their time in the tent.

As the weeks drew by, it became increasingly more baffling to watch their unlikely romance blossom on the Bake Off. Hux really had thought they had kept it on the down low, but the camera caught many glances they threw at each other that he hadn’t even realised he had been doing. Damn those sly cameramen.

There were moments behind the scene where they spoke about the other, too. Ren wouldn't speak to Hux for ten whole minutes when Hux apparently suggested that he must have charmed his way onto the show and casting nasty aspersions on his actual talent, lounging on the stone wall. Hux hadn't remembered saying it. It was Ren's turn to apologise when he accused Hux of being a “nothing but a posh prettyboy.” while pacing the stone path outside of the tent. They both knew it was the pressure of the tent that had gotten to them, but it still hurt. Luckily, they forgave each other easily. It had, after all, been early days. 

Occasionally, another contestant would invite them to watch an episode at theirs for old times sake. Hux and Ren came as a package deal to these and there was a particularly memorable occasion in which they were at Phasma’s flat.

Lounging on a plush sofa, she had informed them of various blogging sites that seemed to have picked up on their romance. Hux, alarmed, took a break from social media for a while although Ren absolutely refused to. He would sit there on Twitter, scrolling through various posts and snorting intermittently. When Hux saw him typing quickly, he scolded.

“Stop encouraging them! My god, you just love attention.” 

“And you don't?” Ren huffed back, typing all the while. After a few moments he surprised Hux with a kiss, winding an arm around him. Peering past Ren's head, Hux saw his other arm raised and the unmistakeable tap on a phone screen. He broke apart almost immediately.

“Did you just take a fucking _selfie?”_ He said, in a high voice. Phasma looked scandalised.

“Hey, no face sucking in my house.” She said, very firmly. “Save that for home, or I'll throw you out without trying any of my biscuits. I'm serious.”

Ears burning, Hux lay back onto the sofa. Ren lowered his phone and had the decency to look a little apologetic. 

“Hux.” He whined, “They're going mad for it. Trust me- the last picture I took of us got like three-hundred retweets.”

“Hmm.” Hux didn't care much about people he didn't know or like appreciating a picture of him. But he couldn't pretend that he wasn't a little pleased that Ren wanted to show him off so much. So he pretended to still be annoyed, turning his back to Ren. He always found it incredibly amusing how ignoring Ren in any capacity affected him so much.

“ _Hux.”_ Ren whined again, pulling pathetically at his arm, “I just want them to know how hot my boyfriend is, stop burrowing away-“

“Hey.” Phasma cut in, “No metaphorical face sucking either, thank you very much.”

Beside her, Bazine laughed at their chastised expressions. She was leaning on Phasma and holding a steaming mug, keeping it steady as the laugh shook her. They were very comfortable together; Hux noticed that Bazine was in fact wearing one of Phasma’s hoodies, and he swore that they were both wearing one each of a pair of socks next to an odd one on the other foot.

“Why aren't you two being interviewed for a scandalous love story?” He asked, putting two and two together. Bazine snorted further into her cup, but Phasma rolled her eyes at his accusatory tone.

“I _don't_ want my business plastered about for the whole country to see.” She said, wending an arm around Bazine. “Bazine and I got together after the show, anyway. You know, _without_ snogging in front of all of my friends and family-“

“Alright, alright.” Hux disliked this accusation, but they were missing the show. They watched the rest of the episode in high spirits, cheering and commiserating in bursts. Ren squeezed his leg when Phasma wasn't looking and they did get to try her biscuits, which were superb. They did in the end let Ren take a picture of them all together, and he reported back that the public were ecstatic that they'd all gathered to watch.

As the Bake Off rolled on, Hux found that he was getting more and more attention. Especially at work where everyone unfortunately seemed to be up to date on the Twitter speculation regarding he and Ren. He thought it inevitable that they should meet Ren, and he decided to put the rumours to rest once and for all because he hated being break room gossip almost as much as them hinting that it couldn't possibly be true.

About halfway through the competition broadcasting on television, Hux had dragged Ren to a work party he had been forced to attend. Everyone was quite taken with him. They seemed to love how boisterous and unlike Hux he was at any rate, staring at the big arms that were wrapped so possessively around his waist. He could tell that they hadn't quite believed until now that there was a possibility that he and Ren had actually gotten together and was pleased that Ren as so intent on holding onto him.

When Hux eventually left to get another drink they were interrogating Ren on the Bake Off and he was absolutely loving it. He revealed nothing about the final result, fearing retribution from the BBC, but Hux felt his face go pink as he heard over the thumping music, “Wouldn’t have enjoyed it at all without Hux, though. Fucking best thing about it. He was _amazing,_ have you been watching him? Amazing _.”_

When the party wound down, a couple of them headed off to another bar in town. Hux, feeling quite tipsy but not dangerously so, hung back to chat with his fellow project manager. When they separated he realised with a jolt that he couldn't see the familiar tall shape anywhere in the room.

Somehow in the confusion he had lost a very drunk Ren. Worried, he texted Ren to ask where he was and got a slightly incoherent text back, as often happened when Ren had drunk too much. When he rang, someone on the line must have sensed his slightly hysterical voice and grabbed the phone, telling him that Ren had accidentally gotten caught up in the group and assured him that they would send him home.

Panicking slightly, Hux went straight back to his flat. He hung outside the block of apartments, pacing the dark streets until a taxi pulled up to the curb. Running very quickly, Hux saw a rugged face lean out of a rolled down window eyeing him up and down. 

“You Hux?” He called out. Hux paused, taken aback.

“Yes.” He said, skidding to a halt just short of the taxi, “But how-?”

The man looked very relieved. He jerked his hand back, gesturing behind, “This one’s been talking about you nonstop since I picked him up. Very chatty, he is. _Very_ eager to be back to you.”

The door opened then and Ren stumbled out on his large, unsteady feet. His face brightened so much when he saw Hux, it quite put the street lamps to shade.

“Hux!” He called, delightedly. For someone who was so tall, it was always amusing how easily Ren got drunk. “I _lost_ you…but I’ve found you!”

Huffing as Ren gave him a very relieved and very heavy hug, Hux dug in his pocket and handed the driver a few crumpled notes.

“Cheers.” He said, noticing how amused the driver looked at Ren crushing Hux with his weight.

“No problem.” The driver smiled. He seemed to be chewing something over for a moment and then,“Good luck next week on the Bake Off!”

He drove off before Hux could even splutter that the episodes were pre-filmed. Oblivious, Ren was nosing his neck, breathing in the now familiar scent.

“Lost you.” He said again very seriously, and the dark eyebrows were knotted. Hux patted him on the back, knowing from experience how upset Ren would get if he saw him trying to hide his laughter. 

“Indeed.” Hux said, patiently,“But I'm here now. Come on, walk with me.”

He guided Ren carefully over cracks in the pavements, only letting go to bring out his keys. When he had with much difficulty persuaded Ren to get into bed, Hux sat beside him and moved to pull his own shoes off. Ren lay spread out and groaning into his pillow. Hux undid Ren's heavy boots for him and prised them off, Ren staying still for a moment so it was easier. They had fallen into little things like this so easily, neither of them really thought about it anymore. Caring so much had never come naturally for Hux, but he often found that Ren thrived on little assurances. _I'm here_ , they said. _I'm here and I'll listen._ Ren lowered his legs until they thumped back onto the covers.

“Don't want to go back to my flat.” Ren said quietly, face scrunched up against the pillow. Hux carefully pulled the covers over him. His feet had been sticking out.

“Well, obviously you can't tonight.” He pointed out, “It’s far too late.”

Ren shook his head and groaned as this made him feel dizzier, “No-o.” He said, plaintively, “I mean, I don't want to go _back.”_

His hidden thoughts often spilled out of Ren when he had been drinking, Hux had discovered. He became a lot more worried, and very sweet with the worry. Hux loved it when Ren told him things he was usually too reserved to mention, especially when they were silly compliments about him.

On one memorable occasion after being plied with too much tequila Ren had gone on a rage after reading a nasty online comment about Hux. When Hux had eventually convinced him that there was no possible way he could track down and annihilate _lolztrooper84,_ Ren calmed down and spent the remainder of the night with his head burrowed into Hux's chest, assuring him that the horrible troll was wrong, he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen on the Bake Off, no on the whole of television. Hux had patted his head in slight exasperation, appreciating the garbled compliments all the same.

But this occasion was strange, as Ren had never mentioned a dislike for his own flat.

“Well, it won't be for long.” Hux replied, smoothing a wrinkle, “You'll be on that job soon, won't you?”

Ren was leaving for a few weeks to go and supervise a sculpture in a nearby city, a big job he had been hankering over for a while. He had been excited to tell Hux, but he screwed up his eyes even tighter now as if the thought pained him. 

“Don't want to.” 

“Silly.” Hux allowed himself a smile, “You were very excited last week.”

“Was lying. Scared.”

Hux did actually laugh then, not even stopping as Ren looked very affronted on the pillow. After a moment Hux said, exasperated now, “Oh, _Ren_. I'm not going to forget about you if you leave for a few weeks.”

There was a huff. Granted, it would be the longest they wouldn't see each other since getting together but Hux was hardly so shallow. Ren didn't seem convinced.

“People at the party were nice.” He challenged, “Very nice. Very friendly with you.”

This was too much for Hux. He pushed his pillow onto Ren's head, ignoring the muffled protestations as he did so.

“You _arse.”_ Hux told him, dodging the arms that grabbed at him,“We have to be nice or we’d murder each other at work. And besides, you’re prettier than all of them. All. Of. Them.”

When Ren managed to wriggle free, his face was very red. But the alcohol was making him softer already.

“Prettier?” He said hopefully, as if waiting for more compliments. But Hux needed a lot more alcohol to garble as many compliments as Ren would.

“Go to sleep, Ren.” Hux kissed him just next to his nose. “You'll have a lovely time, and we can Skype when the Bake Off is on. Sleep.”

Seeming satisfied by this, Ren nuzzled into him and soon nodded off. Hux, slightly fuzzy with the alcohol, watched him for a moment in the pale light of the bedside lamp. He still hadn't quite gotten used to the delicious fact that Ren was lying next to him, all his. The thought of him not being there for a few weeks stabbed unexpectedly at him. When he switched it off, he leaned and whispered into Ren's neck.

“I will miss you. Horribly.” 

Ren didn't say anything, breathing softly. But he did burrow a little closer to Hux.

 

 ***

 

When the final came about, the flat was hastily decorated with a bright tablecloth laden with treats and a little bunting taped hastily about. This was less to do with a lack of effort on Hux and Ren's part and more to do with the fact that there were many unpacked boxes lying about still waiting to be sorted.

Hux watched from the sofa as Ren hefted a few to the side, assuring him that he was so strong and powerful he could do it all in no time. He leisurely sipped a cup of tea and watched his arms straining, marvelling as he always did at his beautiful body. He tried to be a little surreptitious because the last time they had tried to do this they got a little...distracted. A few of the boxes were still a bit dented, actually.

They were having a small party to celebrate the final. And maybe, _maybe_ it was also combined with the fact that Ren was finally moving in. There had been no contest as to whose flat they would move into together; Ren loved his roof garden and would spend as much time as he could there. Hux would have allowed ten times more boxes littering his home to carry on walking in on Ren shirtless and watering his flowers.

It had been quite funny how it had happened. Despite Hux's assurances that he could cope very well without Ren, thank you very much, the weeks he had been away had been hard. How insidiously Ren had wound himself into his life. Hux thought that he had been fine alone, but that was before he had been woken up with a large nose nuzzling him, before he had the pleasure of walking in on Ren in paint-splattered clothes making him breakfast.

Feeling inordinately lonely, he sat in his room and saw Ren's possessions arranged sneakily around his own; socks in his drawer, hair products on his bedside table, a few scattered sketchbooks. It was all practical for Ren staying over for a few nights, of course. But it all fitted very comfortably in his room. When Hux got a little too sentimental after tripping up over one of Ren's dark shirts hastily thrown onto the floor, he knew that he had to make a change.

A taxi revving, the buzzer ringing out across the hallway. The door was barely open before Hux had flung himself upon Ren, dignity forgotten as soon as he saw him though the glass. The dark eyes widened and the lips parted in a smile before Hux kissed them. Ren held his thighs to prop him up and Hux wanted to cry when he felt that familiar strength supporting him. He had missed it so much.

“Well.” Said Ren, when Hux put his forehead on his, “You'd have thought I'd been gone a year, huh.”

“Move in.” Hux said it quickly, before he had the nerve to change his mind, “Now. I demand it.” 

Ren just smiled, and pressed a little kiss to the corner of his mouth. He began walking, carrying Hux through the doorframe very easily.

“I've already been talking to a removal guy.” He explained, anticipating Hux as usual. And with that it had been decided. In the next weeks Ren moved in and they were still unpacking.

And now, they pottered about making the place look at least a little presentable for guests. Ren unhooked an apron he had been wearing, shaking his hair out of his messy bun.

“Oh.” Hux said, leaning up to peck a kiss and wending a hand in the curls, “Your hair will be the absolute death of me.”

Ren didn't reply, but he looked very pleased. The buzzer rang out then, and Hux moved to press the button to let whoever it was in. Soon Phasma and Bazine appeared at their door, Phasma waving two bottles in her great arms.

“We brought booze.” She announced grandly, “Just in case the final doesn't turn out _quite_ as we hoped.”

It was hard not to laugh at this. Hux accepted a bottle of what he saw to be champagne and waved them in. Phasma whistled as she moved through the apartment, eyeing the big windows and carefully designed furniture.

“Shit, nice place Hux.” She seemed impressed, “You an architect or something?”

“Engineer.” He said casually, placing the bottle gently on one of the boxes. Phasma turned to give Bazine a satisfied grin.

“You owe me a fiver.” She sang, and Bazine sighed, rummaging in he bag. When Phasma saw Hux's perplexed expression she explained, “We've been betting on what jobs the other contestants have, considering we forgot to find out at the time. Ren?” She gave a sudden shout.

“Yeah?” Came the reply from the kitchen.

“What's your job?”

If the unexpectedness of this question surprised Ren, he didn't show it. There was a pause and then.

“Freelance artist. And yes, it's as pretentious as it sounds.”

Phasma gave a curse. Bazine gave a victorious little “Ha!” and brought her hand out to get her note back again.

“I thought so.” She said happily, fist closing over it.

“I _swore_ he was a dancer. Like, professional or pole.” Phasma sounded disgruntled. “You _sure_ he's not a stripper?” She asked Hux, hopefully. Bazine knocked her shoulder, shaking her head in disbelief. Hux couldn’t decide if he was horrified or intrigued by the suggestion.

“I am almost entirely certain. Wait, What did you think I was?” He asked Bazine, the image of Ren dancing in a tight outfit momentarily filling his mind. She looked embarrassed for a moment.

“…A schoolteacher. I thought you had a lot of patience for Ren.” She said, and then quickly, “Need any help, Ren?”

She escaped into the kitchen before Hux could do more than splutter. As Phasma guffawed, Hux was saved further torment as the buzzer rang again and he waited for Mitaka to join them. He had a box of sausage rolls and Hux relieved him of them, remembering with a painful jolt the twelve they had to make for the final amongst that other horrifying pile of food. The memory had been too painful for him to try again. But it was nice of Mitaka to bring something over and Hux led him to the living room gladly.

It wasn't long at all until the familiar tune rang out and they were all arranged in front of the television with snacks all about them. Despite the fact that they had all been present at the final, they were all eager to see Hux and Ren baking with Rey for the last time.

Everyone laughed when the first segment revealed a bit of Ren’s backstory, showing him baking at home with his mother. Although she was diminutive in comparison with him, it was great fun watching Ren being ordered around by his mother and unable to hide his surliness.

“Ren might like to tell you he learnt everything he knows about baking on a distant retreat with monks or something else quite exciting,” She told the camera as Ren groaned behind her, “But he was always in the kitchen. Getting under my feet, asking so many _questions.”_ She patted him fondly on the arm, “I remember when you had to sit on the worktop to reach the cupboards, oh you were so _sweet_.”

The actual Ren next to Hux grimaced as everybody tittered around him. Ren's father appeared on camera, holding something.

“Found ‘em.” He said proudly to Leia, “Ren tried to hide them but they were in Chewie’s basket. Nice try.” Han grinned slyly to the camera as Ren in the background froze in horror. “Wanna see?”

“Bastard.” The real Ren growled as his father held up some photographs to the camera. They flashed up on the screen, enlarged. A very small Ren, all ears and long messy hair, was icing cakes with extreme concentration. The expression was so similar to the Ren that Hux knew now, he couldn't stop laughing. Ren looked very betrayed.

“You look absolutely _adorable.”_ Hux told him, “In fact-“ but his next comment cut off as they showed a picture of him even younger and running away from his father with an obviously stolen plate of cookies. His freckled face was absolutely covered in flour and very devious. This was too much for Hux. He thought he could survive on the furious look on Ren's face for years to come and buried his head into Ren's chest to muffle his laughter.

“That's the Ren I remember.” Han said fondly, as the Ren on screen looked mutinous, “Running about and stealing things. Used to be able to pick you up and put you in the garden when you misbehaved.” He eyed his son quickly, “Wouldn't like to try now.”

When Hux finally looked up, Ren appeared surly. It was extremely hilarious.

“You big grump.” Hux chastised him, “Cheer up- they made you look adorable and likeable unlike me the class A arsehole.”

“Aww, Hux.” Phasma threw over consolingly, “Don't be hard on yourself. You've smiled once already this episode and it didn't even look like it hurt.”

Hux ignored her. His own part came next and it was as painless as it could have been, although he had a creeping suspicion that he did look a bit lonely after Ren's. He was mostly in his studio sketching and telling the camera that it was the pure challenge of baking that got him hooked originally. He became a little more enthusiastic when talking of trips abroad, gesturing at various recipe books hidden away. When they asked him about “the other contestants”, he offered a rare smile.

“I quite underestimated them.” He admitted, and it was unusual for Hux to confess something so personal. “Especially, ah, one person in particular.”

There was a collective “ooh” in the room as Hux lost himself for a moment on screen and then snapped back to his usual professional mask. The actual Hux felt very embarrassed, and the arms had tightened around him. When Hux dared to look up, Ren's eyes were very soft. 

“That's the you I fell for.” He said, quietly, tipping his head at the screen,“When you relax a bit and start being yourself.”

Hux didn't know what to say to that, so he just let Ren hold him. He reanimated somewhat when it came to the last task and he was playing around with Ren just to get on Snoke’s nerves. Phasma gave a cackle as Hux ate Ren's spoonful of sauce.

“Awful!” She hooted, “You’re so awful. Mark my words, there will be fifty GIFs of that by tomorrow.”

When the announcement of the winner finally came about, everyone in the room was very consoling. They had enough tact not to be too mean to Hux about it, as it still seemed to be a sore point for him. Ren didn’t really care.

“You were really good, Hux.” Mitaka assured him kindly, “It’s a shame.”

“I suppose.” Hux said, with a heavy heart. But it wasn't too painful to relive it, not with Ren here and everyone being so cheerful. Everybody cheered again when he and Ren kissed slap bang in front of the camera. Hux grinned ruefully, knowing the furore they must be causing online. And then, the camera panned away.

The screen faded to individual shots of the contestants. This part, the end of the show, showed little clips and explained what the contestants had been doing since the Bake Off had finished. Finn apparently was running baking classes in primary schools and they showed him surrounded by kids and beaming at the camera. Poe had been baking nonstop for his RAF team and they showed him grinning in his uniform. Bazine and Phasma smiled at each other as it explained them travelling together to find new recipes. When it got to Hux and Ren, he was surprised to see an image of them together on the stone wall holding hands. The caption read:

_Hux continues working as an engineer, planning in the future to enrol in a Parisian baking school. Kylo Ren continues to bake in his spare time and apparently they did get together for that calzone. And another, and another. They moved in together and still bicker about baking._

“You told them?” Hux said, faintly. It had been a very recent thing, after all. Ren shrugged.

“I told my godfathers.” He admitted, but it was a little apologetically, “I guess they would have told production. I don't care though. I want everyone to know- you mean everything to me.”

Hux tried to speak, and kissed Ren instead. The other guests wrinkled their noses as Hux pressed into Ren on the sofa. Phasma nudged them with her foot.

“Ugh!” She complained, “We _told_ you about that. Save your slurping for when we’ve gone. You soppy gits.”

They spent the remainder of the evening ploughing through the alcohol and snacks, congratulating Mitaka on his delicious sausage rolls and telling Hux that his pies were excellent. None of them even seemed particularly bitter about losing; they spent a good while reminiscing about particularly memorable parts in the tent and trash talking Snoke. That part was especially fun.

When they left, Hux felt…good. It was strange; he had always seen the Bake Off merely as a chance to prove himself. He thought the happy-clappy attitude of the show irritating but surmountable, but now he could sort of see why it appealed to everyone. The thought of losing had been intolerable, but he knew he had gained something that winning never could have given him. Ren's hand on the small of his back as they waved goodbye told him that.

Later they were curled up together, Ren's arm around Hux as it often was on nights where they were too busy buzzing with excitement to sleep. The final, though still a little upsetting to experience again, had reminded Hux of how lucky he really was. It had been quite something to watch Ren staring at him on the telly with such open affection, heedless of the camera and crowds. Ren was staring at him like that now, his dark eyes half-lidded with tiredness, but heavy with something else. Something softer. Hux was well used to him doing this now; staring for a long while without realising he was doing it. He nudged Ren's leg with his foot.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked lightly. It was almost a nightly routine to ask this, for he knew Ren would bottle up his troubles otherwise. Ren blinked, but the heavy affection didn't leave him.

“Lots of things.” Ren said, in a sleepy voice, “The final. When I first saw you. How cute your blush is when you bake.” He gave a pause, and then, as if it was the easiest thing to say in the world, “How much I love you.”

Love. It was a word that had hung between them for a while, unspoken until Ren had breathed it into life with the blunt truthfulness only he possessed. Hux felt it sink into him, slow and soft and then all at once.

“Ren.” He whispered, and buried his face into the bared broad chest. Ren seemed to understand how much he wanted to reply with the same, but he knew Hux by now. He held onto him, nose nuzzling the top of his head. 

“S’alright, Hux.” There was a smile on Ren's voice, “I don't expect you to-“

“I love you too.”

A pause. Ren had frozen with his lips on Hux's head. Hux drew back to see him looking much more alert, a slightly disbelieving smile tugging at his lips.

“You look rather surprised.” Hux mused, although his heart was beating fast after what he had just admitted, “Was that the champagne talking?”

“The champagne helped.” Ren admitted, but then the smile broke through. “You love me.”

“I do.” Hux wondered how it had ever felt difficult to say, it was so easy now, “And you love me.

Apparently overcome, Ren buried his face into the crook of Hux’s neck. Hux stroked through his long dark hair, then down his neck and until his arms were properly around him. He couldn't stop smiling and knew Ren would tease him if he could see. But Ren just gave a soft inhalation, long nose nudging his skin.

“You're not crying, are you?” Hux asked when Ren’s odd quietness continued. The head shook but Hux had the strangest feeling he might be lying. He tried to prise Ren off but he wouldn't move.

“You soft, soppy idiot.” Hux said, full to the brim with fondness, “ _I_ should be the one crying. I can count on one hand the amount of times someone's told me they love me.”

This had sounded far less depressing in his head. Ren's eyes were very sad when he finally looked up, and very bright.

“Hux.” He said quietly, and that one word contained a multitude of other things he wanted to say and didn't need to. Pity, and sadness and a wish that he could have made it different for him. But he wasn't at fault.

“Don't worry.” Hux told him, in a falsely bright imitation of his normal voice, “If you tell me again, I can use another hand. How about that?”

But Ren didn't laugh. He was a very pretty crier, all things considered. His lips were even redder, eyelashes long with the wetness of tears. They had stopped falling but his face still shone with the memory of them. He held Hux's face in his big hands, very tenderly.

“I _love_ you.” He said, in a serious voice. Hux opened his mouth, but Ren kissed him before he could talk. And then, the lips were at his ears, soon whispering, “I love you.”

His breath was very ticklish, ghosting his ear. Hux shivered, although he enjoyed it immensely.

“You do?” He asked, a little coyly because he knew Ren wanted him to ask it. The response was Ren moving to his collarbone and kissing again.

“I do. I love you.”

Each time he said it made a thrill run through Hux. He felt Ren move down under the covers to his chest, down, kissing his belly. Hux arched as he felt the tickling kissing lips on his skin, Ren's voice assuring him quietly. They were both too tired to do anything more for it had been a long day, but when Ren pressed a kiss to the soft inside of his thigh, Hux let out a soft, shuddering breath. But after a moment of teasing, Ren drew up back to Hux's level. His eyes no longer looked sad. 

“How on earth did I find you?” Hux asked, before he could stop himself. Ren wound his long legs around Hux, drawing him closer.

“We found each other.” Ren said, simply. For a few moments they both just breathed softly together. Hux could feel sleep tugging at him, the way it often did when he was so comfortably entwined with Ren. He gave a yawn.

“The Bake Off might have had something to do with it.” He suggested.

“Hmm.” Agreed Ren, vaguely, “True. As soon as you were rude to me I knew I had to have you.”

Hux snorted, “I was struck as soon as I saw you lumber into the tent. You're very difficult to tune out.”

Ren grinned against him, eyes closed. It was the first time Hux had admitted that he had been fond of him so early on.

“Here's to the Bake Off.” Ren said, a hint of sleepiness making the words heavy, “And to losing and rudeness and difficult people.”

“Here here.” Agreed Hux wholeheartedly. 

And then, when Ren kissed him goodnight and told him once again that he loved him, Hux realised that he had stopped counting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've finally finished this fic!! Thank you so much for reading- it has been wonderfully fun to write. I couldn't have hoped for a wackier AU and this was just too good to miss (people look so horrified at me when I admit I've written an almost 50,000 word Bake Off AU, aha). I hope you enjoyed the epilogue! Thank you everyone for your lovely comments, I really do appreciate them <3 As always, I'm at Kyloripped on tumblr.


	9. Extra Epilogue: End of Show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A year later, a whole new mini story! Basically, when it was announced that the actual Bake Off was cancelled last year I was heartbroken and began to write a mini sequel in despair. I got disheartened and although now the show is actually back, I’ve managed to finish it! So here is a mini Bake Off sequel based around Ren discovering that the show has been cancelled and how he and Hux deal with it together. NSFW stuff is kind of my kryptonite so take this chapter with a pinch of salt (pun intended). As ever, find me on tumblr (Kyloripped.tumblr.com) and thanks for reading <3

There was a jingle as Hux threw his keys onto a shallow dish in the hallway, the front door clicking behind him. He could see the light of the living room glowing softly in the distance like a hand beckoning him forwards; Ren was in, then. He felt filled with a warmth that his long, tiring day at work couldn't have given him.  
“I'm home.” He called out although the door closing behind him had rendered this quite unnecessary. Still though, if Hux gave enough warning then Ren might find the time to arrange himself into a nice pillow shape that he could flop onto. He waited, arm half out of his coat sleeve. Nothing.  
  
“Ren?” Hux frowned at the empty corridor.   
  
There was no response again. Tentatively, already making a plan of action in the slight chance that Ren was in trouble, Hux walked towards the living room.   
  
The lamps were on a low setting giving it a fuzzy half lit appearance. The television was flickering but the sound was turned right down as it flashed some nonsense evening programme. Hux’s troubled gaze slid from the screen to the dark shape gathered onto the sofa. Ren was flopped face down, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders, his absurdly long legs almost hanging over the end. Hux took in this frankly alarming image, wondering what could have possibly caused Ren to become so despondent in the hours he had been away.  
  
“Ren?” Hux said again, softer this time, worried. There was a moment’s pause. When Ren finally looked up, his eyes were so mournful that Hux took another step forwards.   
  
“Hux,” He whispered, “They’ve… they’ve cancelled it.”  
  
He gave a very pointed pause then as if to give Hux ample time to absorb this apparently catastrophic news. Hux just goggled at him.  
  
“What?” Hux asked, bewildered, “Cancelled…what?”  
  
“The Bake Off.” Ren continued in that somber tone, “They've… _cancelled_ it.”  
  
There was a moment when Hux stared at Ren and he stared back as if the greatest tragedy in all of the history of mankind had befallen them. And then, Hux pounced. He picked up a pillow on his way down, squashing a spluttering Ren into the sofa.  
  
“You _fucker_ -“ Hux shouted as Ren spluttered and waved his arms to try and stop him, “I thought someone had died. You-“ Hux pushed him down, “Fuck-“ Ren grabbed his elbows, “ _Head_ -“  
  
Gasping, Ren emerged red-faced and holding Hux in place. He looked mortally offended.   
  
“Someone has died,” He insisted in that over-dramatic way he alone had perfected, “My memories. My joy and love. My one reason to-“  
  
“Oh, stop _whining_ -“   
  
There was another scuffle in which someone definitely got hit in the face with an elbow and on which the sofa cushions got a fair amount of abuse. It ended with Hux collapsed on Ren’s chest, the big hands holding his wrists in place to stop him from wriggling. They were both breathing heavily, hair thrown around their faces.  
  
“Don’t.” Hux panted, too tired to struggle out of his grip, “Scare me like that, Ren. Not when I’ve been at work all day.”  
  
He felt an apologetic kiss on his nose, then on his cheek. Feeling like he deserved something a little more, he caught Ren’s lips with his own and kissed him hard. He felt pleased when Ren gave a grunt of surprise when he bit at his lips, but he wholeheartedly deserved it. When Hux was through with his punishment he lay back on the chest.  
  
“Sorry.” Ren muttered against his cheek, “It’s pretty damn sad, though.”  
  
Hux gave a snort.  
  
“You big baby.” He drawled, and then he really began to absorb what Ren had told him, “Wait. How exactly have they cancelled it?”  
  
Ren explained the sorry news. It appeared that, to the shock of both Ren and the entire nation, the Bake Off had indeed been unceremoniously cancelled. The Internet was in uproar. Around the world people were presumably crying into custard creams, eyes staring dolefully into the bottom of the packet as they considered how dull their Tuesday nights would now be without the show to warm them. Perhaps a single solitary tear from the most stoic of them would fall into a slice of battenberg, slipping in between the criss-cross patterns of sponge as the pure wretchedness of life sunk in.  
  
On the sofa Hux tried extremely hard to find the news upsetting, but Ren’s despair was really quite hilarious to him.   
  
“Makes us more elite, don’t you think?” Hux mused, “Considering we are now technically in one of the last Bake Offs.” He paused before bringing the knife down, “…Ever?”  
  
Ren shut his eyes. “Heartless.” He muttered, “Cruel.”  
  
“That’s why you love me, isn’t it?”  
  
Ren grumbled something that may have included some choice swearwords, but Hux could still hear the fondness in it. He yanked his wrists free from Ren’s grip and propped himself up.  
“Too depressed to make dinner, I presume?”  
  
The desperate look he got back told him everything that he needed to know. Hux sighed. He really had been looking forward to coming back to a homemade dinner. Knowing that he had failed in the one single task Hux had expected of him, Ren tried to speak but Hux put a finger over his lips.  
  
“Shush.” He commanded, “I’m taking control, you hopeless creature.”  
  
“’M sorry-“ Ren managed to get past his lips, but Hux shoved down harder.  
  
“Be quiet.” He said, “We’re going into the kitchen. Come on.”   
  
One thing that Hux loved about Ren, really loved, was how sometime he could be led around like a wayward puppy knowing that they would get a treat if they behaved themselves. His sadness was amusing, but Hux knew why it pierced him so badly; they owed the Bake Off everything, really. It was rather like being told a dotty old aunt would no longer come to visit.   
  
Hux deposited Ren somewhere in the vicinity of the oven and began pulling on an old apron hooked onto the back of their door. After this was secured, he grabbed a pack of flour from the cupboards, tsking as he discovered that Ren had not sealed the top properly and some spilled out. Fine clouds of flour settled on the work surfaces like snow, dusting the tip of his fingers. Memories of the tent fluttered into his mind then; ovens huff puffing out hot air, the smell so good it was like a hand caressing the face and turning it towards the closest batch. Soft sunlight falling on dark hair, eyes the same shade as brown sugar staring over at him. The feeling of being seen by all but only being known, really known, by one. All gone, finished, end of show.   
  
The very first trickle of remorse began to slip into Hux’s mind. A trickle that with enough indulgence could flow into something dangerously close to Ren’s pining. Feeling annoyed for letting himself be wooed by such ridiculous sentimentality, Hux reached for salvation in a box of eggs.  
  
“Am I mistaken,” He heard an incredulous voice from behind the cupboard door, “Or are you actually baking?”  
  
“Have you considered a career in detective work?” Hux leant further into the cupboard, “Your powers of observation are truly astounding, Ren.”  
  
There was a huff. Behind the door Ren opened his mouth to retaliate, but the words died when he saw Hux methodically separate the ingredients. He watched, realisation dawning.  
“Oh.” Ren said, “You _are_ upset.”  
  
There was the click of a bowl settling onto a marble work surface. Hux didn’t turn.  
  
“On what basis have you come to that conclusion?”  
  
A few steps towards him, slow, calculated as of he were a doe that might suddenly take flight.   
  
 “Because,” Ren said, body in the cool kitchen but his mind also falling back into the hot stuffy tent, “You bake when you’re upset. I remember.”  
  
Hux paused, his hand on the shiny metal mixing bowl. He didn’t move even when Ren came to a stop behind him. Instead he looked down and two faces stared back at him, distorted in the curved metal. How strange to think that only one face used to stare back. _How strange to be loved,_ he thought. _How unlikely._   
  
“I’m not upset.” He announced, and it was only half a lie because he couldn’t be truly upset with Ren there, “I bake when I’m in the presence of someone who sorely needs to be filled up with sugary food, actually.”  
  
“Uh huh.”  
  
The big arms snaked around his waist. Hux swatted at him, pleased when a fine trail of flour fell on his arm. Ren’s grip tightened, challenging him to escape but Hux knew from experience how futile that would be. So he just admitted defeat and carried on, the arms the sweetest burden around his waist.  
  
In went the sugar, tumbling to the bottom of the bowl as it waited for the cheerful yellow chunks of butter to rain down from above. When this was mixed it was time for the bright orange yolks to settle on them like eyes staring up. Hux whisked away their doleful stare, the steps ingrained into his mind so completely that he had no need to consult a recipe book.   
  
“What are you making?” Ren asked, head resting on Hux’s shoulder as he watched him pour in a little milk.   
  
“I fear I was mistaken.” Hux replied, checking the consistency with a critical eye, “I don’t think detective work is your forte after all.”  
“Oh?” Ren said, “What is my forte?”  
  
Hux considered for a moment, hand hovering as he reached for a bottle of vanilla extract.  
  
“Being extremely annoying.” He decided, fingers closing in on the little bottle, “Getting in the way. Being so hopelessly overdramatic that I am forced to sacrifice my after-work relaxation time.“  
Instead of looking upset, Ren seemed rather pleased with this assessment. This perhaps was due to the fact that throughout his words, Ren’s hand had been sneaking under his apron. Hux felt a hand on his ass.  
  
“And that?” He asked innocently, squeezing.  
  
Hux’s hand fumbled on the bottle, tipping a little too much in. He didn’t care.  
  
“…That.” Hux repeated, feeling the warmth of the palm through the fabric, “Always that.”  
  
Something changed then. The playfulness shifted, Ren’s hands on him making him feel more caught then held. When the understanding of this came, a wolfish grin fell across Ren’s face. The hand slipped idly into his trousers, a knee going between his legs from behind. Hux grasped the work surface for balance.  
  
“I’m baking.” Hux announced rather stupidly, aware that his ears would most likely be flushing.   
  
“I know.” Ren nudged Hux just a little more into the marble. “I’m not stopping you.”  
  
 _Liar._ Hux thought, but he had after all been trained to bake under duress. He stood straighter, back pressing into the firm chest behind him. Ren started fiddling with the ties on his apron.  
“You know this apron belonged to my grandmother, don’t you?” Hux was reaching for the cake tin and ignoring the wandering hands with as much dignity as he could muster, “You’re sullying her memory. Poor grandmother Hux.”  
  
“Poor Ren.” He got in return, “There’s always so many layers to you, damn it. How am I supposed to fuck you if you’re always wrapped up like a Christmas present?”  
  
“Oh dear.” Hux’s lip twitched, “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe Grandmother Hux is trying to protect my innocence from beyond the grave.”  
  
Ren cursed, fumbling uselessly.  
  
 _“Stop_ mentioning your grandmother.” He complained, “Killing the mood.”  
  
Hux laughed, arching his back against Ren to frustrate him all the more.  
  
“What mood?” He asked, although of course he knew, “You’re not-?”  
  
Quickly, he reached back to brush his hand along Ren’s belt. When he moved lower, his eyes widened.  
  
“You _are_.” He said wondrously, and then, “Really? In the kitchen?”  
  
“Oh, don't act so innocent.” Ren growled, “As if you haven’t thought about me fucking you in the kitchen.  
  
Hux had, as a matter of fact. The thought often hit him with particular strength when Ren was baking. Sleeves rolled up to show his large forearms, big rough hands shaping dough with a delicacy that was at complete odds with them, his tongue curling around a spoon to taste his creations. It was a wonder they got anything done, really.   
  
Reaching for the bowl of mix to tip it into the cake tin, Hux felt Ren finally get the knot loose. When the apron was shucked off, Ren reached for the buttons on his trousers.  
  
“Honestly.” Hux put a hand on his to pause him. Ren had never had much patience for the sanctity of baking, despite all they had been through, “Let me at least put this in the oven, so help me. The recipe doesn’t say ‘add the flour, fold thoroughly and then come after step four.’”  
  
“I could make you come quicker than step four, baby.” Ren whispered into his ear. Hux gave a groan.  
  
“That’s an awful line.” He complained, “Absolutely awful. Shame on you.”  
  
Ren grinned, bit at his ear. Hux tried to push his head away and felt pleased when globs of dough and flour wiped off onto Ren’s cheeks. Some specks crumbled into his own face and Ren didn’t hesitate to lick the mess off, dragging his tongue rapturously across Hux’s cheek.  
  
“Ugh.” Hux squirmed, “You beast. You awful, foul beast.”  
  
“Liar.” Ren muttered, “You love it.”  
  
It was true. Hux did. He could love anything that Ren did if he was touched with that pure feeling of possession, of the _mine mine mine_ feeling of Ren’s tongue against his skin. He couldn’t deny that he was hard anyway, the feeling of being pressed into the cupboard in front of him maddening and wonderful all in one. But it was sacrilegious to abandon a recipe halfway through, a poor send-off to the Bake Off’s memory. Hux arched his back a little as he made his decision, knowing it was going to drive him mad.   
  
“Get me some strawberries.” Hux demanded. “From the garden. Now.”  
  
If Ren was disappointed by this demand he didn’t show it. Instead, Ren pushed Hux’s hands down on the work surface, slipping them until they came to a stop on the marble just short of his cake tin.  
  
“Don’t move.” Ren’s words ghosted his ear. “Got an idea.”  
  
Before Hux could protest, the delicious pressure against his back lifted as Ren slipped away from him. There was the sound of the tap turning on, the footsteps disappearing into the distance and then the slide of glass doors. When the pattering of feet faded Hux allowed himself a shaky breath, shifting slightly on one foot. He kept his hands flat on the marble only because he thought he might have to palm himself through the fabric if he gave himself half the chance.  
  
The oven hummed in the background, impatient to be filled with the cake. Hux was also beginning to regret his foolhardy decision to send Ren away when the footsteps plodded back into the room. He didn’t turn, eyes fixed on the wall of utensils in front. He heard Ren open a drawer, the rattle of cutlery. Then, absurdly, a chopping noise.  
  
Hux could feel his leg wobbling, but he refused to change his position. Still Ren chopped. He thought about the big hands on the knife, expertly slicing the strawberries into neat sections to place on top of the mix. Maybe he would bring one to his mouth, the red bright against his plump lips. Hux felt jealous, and then annoyed that he was descending to being jealous of a strawberry.  
  
“I appreciate your sudden concern for my drizzle cake.” Hux managed to get out, deciding at long last that his needs were more important than a damned dessert, “But I’m going to get upset if you don’t fuck me this very instant.”

  
A laugh, full to the brim with cockiness. The chest was once again against his back and Hux straightened up in anticipation… but Ren leaned past Hux to pop the strawberries on the mix, the soft plop of the fruit as they landed irritating him even more. To hell with dignity. He had sacrificed that along time ago in a hot stuffy tent where the whole world could see him do so.

  
“This _very instant_.” Hux repeated, unable to keep the slight whine out.   
  
When Ren settled behind him properly, Hux knew that his torture was over. He put a small bottle on the surface in front of Hux and he guessed that was probably why Ren had been so willing to leave the room. Before he could guess too much, however, the hand was back in his trousers.  
  
“So.” Ren said casually, trailing his slicked fingers down until they rested on Hux’s ass, “For exactly how long have you been thinking about me fucking you in the kitchen?"   
  
Hux made to speak, exhaled sharply at the feeling of Ren entering him. He loved this, this feeling of becoming undone with the only person he would allow to see him do so.  
  
“For as long as you have.” He threw at him, unable to stop pressing himself backwards like the needy little wretch that he had somehow become.   
  
Ren took his time, then crooked his fingers in a way that made Hux groan because it was wonderful and a relief and not enough all at once. Ren grinned against his neck, hot mouth on his skin, his other hand holding Hux steady as he worked at him.   
  
“Greedy.” Ren muttered as Hux made an impatient noise.  
  
“Ren.” He got out eventually, “I’m-“  
  
“I know.”  
  
A hiss from Hux as Ren retracted his fingers, both hands still flat on the work surface. His head was bent, breaths falling heavily as he heard Ren fiddle with his own belt.   
  
This was, Hux reflected, a better send off than they could have hoped for. The bright sun leaking through the window as the evening slowly faded, the smell of cake in the air, Ren inside him. The big hands grasped him as Ren thrust, teeth nipping at his ear. He whispered things that Hux could barely hear, but could taste the meaning of when he twisted back to kiss him. When Ren put his hand on his cock and stroked him with his clever baker’s hands, it was just the right amount of too much. Hux put a hand over his to make him go faster, making gasps, muttering Ren’s name over and over.   
  
Later, when Ren collapsed against him, they spend a moment panting in the warmth of their bodies, exacerbated by the heat emanating from the oven. He cast an eye towards the left, reading the time on the small screen.  
“Still time left.” He mused, and for some reason it felt like the funniest thing in the world. They laughed at the pure nonsense of it all until their stomachs hurt and Ren led him by the hand out of the kitchen.   
  
They made their way to the bedroom, tired, but not with the bone-brittle tiredness that usually came from a day tinged with bad news. They were tired because they were drunk on the feeling of each other, from the knowledge that something had ended but this, this now, was something they could continue together.   
Hux sunk onto the soft white covers, soreness settling in but happiness pushing it further away, the kind that started from his chest and emanated as far as his fingertips. Their curtains were still thrown open with the glow from their window painting his skin with streaks of orange. Ren stood watching, some sentinel carved out of the dying light of the evening until he slipped out of the room to greet the piping beep beep of the oven.   
  
Bits of time, slowly dripping. Hux arranged himself on the covers with the posture of a life model, the graceful curve of his body winter-pale even against the white sheets. When Ren returned with a tray and nothing to hide his nakedness other than a certain smug sense of satisfaction, Hux stretched out like a cat.   
  
“This isn’t going to get messy, is it?” Hux was eyeing the neat slices of cake, the pot of cream and strawberries huddled against the blue porcelain of the plates. Eating in bed without due care was amongst a list of bio-hazards he had been warring about with Ren for months now. Ren shrugged, rolling his great shoulders.  
  
“Dunno.” He said, and then grinning slyly, “Unless you want it to.”  
  
It did get messy, as a matter of fact. Ren tapped the jewel-bright strawberries against Hux’s lips until he relented and opened them up, then seemed to think cream was a requirement rather than an option. Hux would not degrade himself enough to allow a spoonful of cream to enter his mouth but accepted a strawberry dipped unceremoniously into the pot. He made sure to nip at the fingers, felt a light swat at his cheeks.  
  
“Bad.” Ren chastised him, “I’m gonna eat all of your cake.”  
  
He stuffed a big piece in, chewed rapturously as the sweet taste of strawberry and sponge flooded in. He gave a sigh of absolute pleasure as he reached for more. It was not even bias that made him do it. Just the acknowledgement of a talented person knowing talent when they saw it and making sure the whole world knew. Hux, who thrived on genuine praise, wanted to fuck him again.   
  
The cream tipped over when Hux leaned over to kiss him, the surprised lips tasting sugar sweet. But the rules of the evening were broken; the Bake Off was dead, there was cake for dinner and cream spilling on the bed was only a small nuisance. Through the kiss Ren sneaked a hand towards the cream and spread it on Hux’s chest, thumb skimming a nipple. Hux groaned with exasperation that was only there to hide how much he wanted it. When Ren lapped it off it felt like worship, like Ren’s lips on him were the only thing that existed in that moment.  
The weak lamplight shone through the darkness to make a mess of their bodies. Limbs entwined, hand on hip, mouth on neck; the outlines of their shapes blended until there was just nothing but the feeling of the other in the dark. Eventually, they were too tired to do anything besides curl around each other in the warm cocoon they called their bed. They watched each other, not for any particular reason other than to see the other in the dark.   
  
Hux still had whipped cream on his nose. Ren could see it, taste it, feel the bright white dissolve on his tongue and the nose wrinkle with the sensation. _Disgusting,_ the nose wrinkle said quite clearly. _And don’t you just love it_ , the tongue now licking the lip responded.   
  
When the lamp was off and the true darkness of the evening had fallen, it was that precious time of the night where words flowed almost as easily as thoughts. Confessions, lamentations; nothing felt silly or surplus at this time, where the dark skies made everything feel endless. Hux whispered quiet things he wouldn’t dare in his rational, sex-deprived daytime mind. Ren lay back and smiled in the dark.   
  
Sleep was soft coming for them, a hand pressing their eyes shut. Hux nestled against the big chest, feeling a need to say something before the night had truly ended.  
  
“That should have been the last technical challenge, you know.” Hux mused as Ren’s arm snaked around him, ”Attempt to bake a drizzle cake whilst Kylo Ren tries to fuck you.”   
  
“Mmm.” Ren replied sleepily, “Sounds great. You would’ve gotten Star Baker.”  
  
“I should hope so.”  
  
Quiet as they sunk into the mattress, into each other. The tray lay abandoned on the bedside table with a few scattered strawberry tops, a white bead of cream dripping from the rim of the jug. Hux could still taste the cream on his lips, and Ren and the evening sweet as anything else.  
  
“How strange for it to be the end.” The words slipped out tasting of truth, of the odd sense of loss the day’s news had brought them. A big foot nudged his own, wanting to be warmed by it.  
  
“It’s not the end.” Ren’s words fell heavy with sleep, with certainty, “Not really.”   
  
There was truth to that, Hux mused. An end couldn’t feel like this, like sinking into warmth promised for today and tomorrow and every day after that. Not when there was everything laid out for them to take. And they did so gladly, falling asleep around each other until the sun would rise and wake them up for another day for them to take together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm never quite sure if See-Threepio reads quite right, so please let me know if not!! I am very ill and have a crushing amount of work, so I don't know how frequently I shall update this, but I am having immense fun so far. Who let Hux on the Bake Off.
> 
> Note: Snoke is sort of a mash up of Mary and Paul in this- I see him with some Mary aesthetics, with maybe the slight attitude of Paul? I chose Maz to go with him purely because I thought she would add some nice sass :)


End file.
